Cinia Pacifica Posts

“And… done!”

The clapping stopped.

Panting, sweating, and slumped on the floor was Svetlana Astakhova Alicia, a person who was appointed to be a Duchess almost a year ago. She had been practicing the art of dancing—specifically, belly dancing—which had to do with learning the Starlight Lost Form.

Now, after the year had passed since her last fight with Virgo, her dancing lessons were finally concluded for the day. It seemed like she mastered a new dance, but for what?

“Now we can put you on stage. Finally.”

The Princess of Saudi Arabia seemed to be nodding to herself proudly as she arbitrarily made the decision without the permission of the performer.

“Stage? What do you mean by putting me on stage? Isn’t this just for a spell?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? We’re gonna have a stage performance with you soon.”

“Why!? Shouldn’t you have told me something about that sooner!?” Svetlana said with a shocked expression.

“Ahhh, I thought I did. Oh well, no worries. Now you know! You can do it!”

“Why do I have to do it? Not like I signed up for something like that.”

“Don’t you remember back when you first came here and we wanted you to dance for us?” Aisha asked with a very innocent face.

“I never agreed to do that, though! I told you that it’s too embarrassing back then.”

“Aw, but you don’t have a choice!” Aisha said with a “hoho” laugh. “Otherwise, no more teaching!”

“Fine.” Svetlana sighed in defeat. “When will it be taking place?”

“A week from now. The King and some officials will be there. So, do your best!”

“Aren’t you dancing as well?”

“I wish,” Aisha said with a pout. “I have to entertain the officials and talk to some ambassadors, and all.”

The life of a Princess was harsh, but Aisha made it seem easy with her usual attitude.

“Wait! Am I doing this alone then?”

“No, not at all. There will be many dancers with you. You know? When you see music videos you always have those extras.”

“Shouldn’t I have been practicing with them then? Unless you expect us to magically being able to follow the same rhythm.”

“I don’t, no. The dance you just mastered is what’s required, but I planned to have you dance with the rest starting tomorrow.”

“Okay, but you really should have told me sooner. Not a week before it starts!”

“I thought I did… maybe it slipped my mind… heh. As expected of me.”

“That’s no surprise. Seems like a normal occurrence by now.” Svetlana sighed.

“Mhm. Things will work out. Maybe. Somehow.”

“That’s easy for you to say, considering you’re not gonna be the one dancing in front of a crowd.”

“I did before when I was still learning the Starlight spells. The King likes to check your progress that way.”

“I see. Well, I guess I have to show everything I’ve learned these past few months, but still, you could have given me a warning earlier.”

“Oh, you wanna impress my father? How brave. Hoho, I wish you luck.”

“I do not plan to go embarrass myself out there.”


“So, about two months more of attuning and you should be done. I think I’ll be letting you off after that and you can go home.”

“That would be good for me after all this training,” Svetlana said happily. She couldn’t wait to see Isabelle again. “By the way, when would I have to return for more training?”

“Hmm… I might have to leave the country around the time you go. Who knows. Even I am not sure…”

“How am I supposed to learn the rest of Starlight then? Even I know that I haven’t learned everything.”

“If I’m alive, I’ll try sending you a letter. Not sure where to send it, though.” Aisha chuckled dryly.

“I suppose I’ll give you my address later.”

“If I’m dead, Svetlana—talk to the King.”

“How would I even know if you’re dead?”

“Good question.” Aisha seemed to tilt herself in thought. “I guess if you don’t get any letter for a year at least.”


“Alright then. I guess the same could be for me if I don’t show up in a year.”

“And you’re fine with ball dancing, yes? Or are there other things you’d need to learn? Since I only remember them doing the waltz.”


“Well, Nancy mentioned some sort of dancing games. I’m not really sure how they work, since she only just mentioned them recently.”

“Were they the German games?”

“I believe so. She has been making me learn too many things. It’s so annoying trying to cram so many things in one year.”

“It’s for your future so I think you should be happier. The things you are likely being taught now were taught to kids in that country so… they have to cram it for you or else you will be making yourself look stupid.” Aisha laughed, but patted Svetlana. “Hang in there. I can help with the German stuff.”

“Thanks. Though, she could be more lenient. I did become a Duchess kinda out of nowhere,” Svetlana said with a sigh.

“Leniency is for cowards!”

“Well, are there any more surprises you have kept hidden from me aside from this one? I don’t want to find out a week or a day before again.”

“Want me to have some?”

“No! That’s just plain being mean.”

“Hahah! I don’t have anything for now. We simply start learning spells after the event is over. The attunement rituals will continue as usual. Dancing lessons are almost done but we have the German plays in addition now.”

“I just hope that you have no more surprises, then.”

Mn, I already told her that I got nothing, though… she doesn’t trust me, huh?

After Michael took leave of White Lotus’ mansion, he finally saw the world with a renewed view. He only ever went out to get supplies and cakes, but he didn’t know how bad things outside were. There was countless wreckage across the city from the battle Virgo had with humanity.

The mages fought with Virgo a year ago. A battle Michael himself lived to see till its end. That day, the woman he had become infatuated with brought down a shard of the moon, destroyed half of South America, and displayed true power. One would think that he was not infatuated with her, but her power—her very capabilities. He looked up to this impossible force that could break tangible parts of the world with what seemed like whims.

People seemed sparse, and the reconstruction was still in progress. He could tell that the air was full of spiritual energy. The same silver mist he experienced in the moon’s shard seemed adrift in the air of New York now. It took a long time to walk to a particular building that seemed to be relatively untouched from the calamity that the country faced a year ago. The neighborhood was either lucky, or it was deliberately protected with expectations of the passing powerful forces.

“They never bothered to comb for you here, it seems.” Michael thought of it as sort of a cunning plan. They would be too busy grieving and combing for survivors to search for the perpetrator in the same place.







Taking the elevator, the two soon entered a completely normal apartment. It was strange to say the least, finding a rather peaceful house in the middle of a city that was full of wreckage.

“I see this, but what I am wondering about is how you guys get food this far from civilization?” Michael commented.

“This still is a civilization though, isn’t it?” the nun casually responded. She slotted a key into the keyhole and opened the door to the apartment.

“Considering we’re standing within ground zero? Not really.” Michael didn’t know what to expect from the relatively small apartment. Especially when said apartment contained the power that had destroyed half a continent.

“There are some shops. I think?”

The Saint gestured Michael to follow her inside. The apartment was relatively simple, except he found a magic circle on the living room’s floor, and then one room with a bed of steel and some odd devices, then two bedrooms where people seemed to stay and cope with small space. The doors and walls seemed worn out, evident from the cracks he could see on some of the surfaces.

“This place seems awfully desolate. Don’t tell me they abandoned you?” he joked.

“Heh, I wonder about that.”

The Saint opened a door and what seemed like the master bedroom was revealed. Michael witnessed a familiar blue wall as the interior of the room. A room he had once woke up in about a year ago. The nun entered and stopped, turning to the left. She found her Mistress sleeping on a bed. She sighed looking at this sight.

Virgo was sleeping with a very peaceful face. It didn’t look like the face of a conqueror whatsoever.

“Erm, I think we arrived too early?” Michael already turned around and looked away from Virgo. Even if she was a Descendant, she was a lady still, a lady who was asleep.

The nun pulled up her sleeves, mustering her strength and courage, approaching Virgo.

“Mistress, it’s time to get up—”

Before the Saint could touch the blanket that Virgo was wrapped with, the sleeping conqueror caught her hand, and just like that—she was flung to the wall of the room with a loud thud. It made sense now why the wall on that particular side was quite battered, with the paint almost coming off. Despite the movement, Virgo continued to sleep.

“Have you guys tried making noises? Or perhaps preparing food that she likes? That sometimes wakes up the Mist—that might work.” Michael heard Saint hitting the wall but still refused to face towards the room.

“Easier said than done.” The nun got back to her feet.

Michael heard some noises and it sounded as though another battle for the fate of the world was taking place with all the loud thuds. Finally, he turned to the light of power when the nun was using her Commandment and Virgo was blocking it with her relic sword—while sleeping.

“Oh… Saint, good morning?” Virgo finally greeted lazily, rubbing her eyes.

The Saint seemed to have a very bright smile as she faced her so-called Mistress.

“Good morning, Mistress. What time do you think it is?”

“What a silly inquiry. The clock may answer that for me.”

“I thought I told you not to oversleep!”

“Alright, jeez.”

A storm of scolds escaped the room as the nun strictly reprimanded the ancient conqueror who was truly challenging humanity, and said conqueror seemed to fear this force of discipline. It was surreal.

“So I suppose you ladies would like something to eat for breakfast?” Michael just gave up and decided to go with the flow.

“We don’t really have the supplies or anything except… fruits, I guess.”

Virgo and the Saint sat down across the table in the middle of Virgo’s room. In a basket parked on the table were some apples, which the nun cut into small morsels with a knife. She fed Virgo the pieces of the fruit while gesturing for Michael to take a seat.

Michael took the seat in front of the two ladies and watched in amusement.

It seemed like Virgo was used to being fed food, and was never one for doing mundane tasks for herself. Truly born to rule, her retainers were to support her to very great degrees, such as spoonfeeding pieces of an apple. It didn’t even seem as though the Descendant noted the former priest before her, her face full of bliss from eating and relishing the taste of the fruit.

“Seeing Miss Lumiere’s face being fed like that is sort of jarring,” Michael commented.

“Well, that face came from this little mastermind here,” the Saint supplemented, apparently just as amused as he was. “And you want to serve this lazyhead of all people.”

“Not much of a change, really.” There had been troubling times when Flora was particularly stubborn, but as a whole he did enjoy being with her. Who was to say the same might hold true with Virgo?

“So, who are you?” Virgo asked Michael, still chewing on the last of the apple.

“Oh. I’m applying for a position in your retinue. I helped eliminate that kid, Reaper, and Saint has been teaching me the Form of Heavenly Sacraments. Finally, my name is Michael Kallweit, former Executor of the Church.” He didn’t really care for that title anymore, but he’d use it for what it was worth.

It was only after Virgo looked deep into his eyes that she seemed to remember.

“Oh, it’s Mister Desperate. Good morning.”

To Virgo it was as though she had met Michael the day before yesterday. While to Michael, it really did felt like an year had passed. The Descendants were known for their strange perception of time and it was very clear with Virgo.

“That is so correct I cannot even make a rebuttal,” he replied as he sighed. At least she remembered him. “I have come here for that spot which is hopefully still open… but first, I wish to understand what it is you are trying to do. What you meant by judging the world.”

“Oh? You aren’t going to blatantly seek power?”

“I seek power still, yes. But power without purpose… ends up badly.”


“I see you grew up. Learned something, have you?”

“Not without sacrificing an important part of my life.”

“You chose to make that sacrifice, didn’t you?”

“It was… by my own doing. Yes.”

He recalled Flora’s final moments just before he shot her with his bow. How he didn’t even hesitate as he took her life, and how much she begged him to stay and abandon his revenge. And how he chose revenge over her. Even if he was under the influence of something sinister, it was all on him, and he would willingly carry that sin.

“We have one more space open.”

“Yes, I believe you wanted me to prove my loyalty to you. Hence the inquiry about what you were trying to do.”

“I wasn’t really serious when I was saying that.” Virgo seemed to want to yawn but the Saint pinched her cheek. “First, I am the one with power and I think my demands would have more weight—what do you really want? Surely it’s not just power you are after. No man is so hollow as to pursue that simply.”

“Change. I seek change, I can take vengeance, or try to protect people but… it—suffering will just keep on happening. As long as the systems of old are there unchanged, I would just be desperately trying to cure a symptom of a far deeper sickness. A plague that is perpetuated by people like him—Jesus. So I seek power, power to change—end this once and for all.”

“So you want to change this system?” Virgo gave the nun a glance, who only shrugged.

Michael faced Virgo and spoke full of determination, “I will.”

“Why? Is that really a big deal? Old systems, I mean. I ran old systems myself before. The existence of Descendants are already there due to an old system too.”

“And it was that system that allowed for what has transpired, even beyond this past year. It might be a quest of folly, or me justifying the vengeance I seek… but this is the path I chose to take. What cannot be fixed… must be renewed with a cleansing fire.”

“So what, you want to replace the system administering the existence of Descendants too? Or is this ideology limited to the scum of the earth that is the Church’s Jesus Christ?”

“Ah… If only. I’m going to assume that that’s not possible at all. So yes. Let’s start with that farce of his.”

“You know, if you do want to even lay a scratch on the Descendant system—we have to kill you,” the nun promptly informed the former Executor of the Church as if it was just a matter of everyday business.

“So I was right, it’s not possible at all. Can’t do something while being dead at the same time, right?” Michael joked, finally feeling relaxed after a hard day.

“The world cannot exist without the system. We cannot have a clueless moron play with something he doesn’t know the rules of, yes?”

“Quite right. So, how do we start with this thing?”

Virgo gave the Saint another look and the nun left the room and closed the door. The Descendant seemed to sigh before she gave the former priest a look, a bored look. Thankfully, she was done with the apple now.

“So you want to know my purpose, was it?” she asked. “Even if you ask that, I am not sure where to begin.”

“Well, I don’t mind getting the short version.” Michael looked around the room. “This place sure could use some cleaning later.”

“We’re leaving this place soon so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Ah. Then how about from the beginning, when you assumed the role of a Descendant of Virgo?”

“Assumed the role of Virgo… ahh, it sounds almost strange since it is almost like a second name now.” The Descendant chuckled dryly. “I think I was still a slave back when I was still a human being. You see, when I became a Descendant, I had no aim in life whatsoever, other than freedom.”

“Freedom, huh? How long till you managed to attain it? What did you do afterwards?”

“I roamed across the lands, until I found a bunch of people who couldn’t find a land to settle in.”

“Were they freed slaves too?”

“No, there were all kinds of people. Strong men and able women, but lost and aimless—just like me. Long story short, they wanted a Descendant—a Goddess—to lead them.”

“And that person was you. Where did you take your people? What did you call yourselves?”

“It was a large island as far as I remember. I wanted to take the people to where no other filth could come up to us. It wasn’t my idea, but they decided to call themselves Tuatha Dé Danann. Nowadays that means the †˜tribe of Dana’. My name is Dana, by the way.”

“Tuatha Dé Danann? That sounds familiar… Might’ve read it somewhere. Pleased to meet you, Dana. Or would you prefer to be called Virgo?”

“If you want to serve me that nickname would sound rather irksome. Anyway, nice to meet you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Michael scratched the back of his head as he realized that it was her that led the people in the Irish myths. “The pleasure is all mine. What happened with your people then, why are they just believed to be myths now?”

“At the time, the hierarchy worked differently before the Monarchy System was introduced by the leader of the Zodiac. The Goddess would rule over only the King, who would in turn rule over the entire tribe. The Goddess’ so-called †˜rule’ was very limited, however, as her sole purpose was to bestow power. I believe you would know what type of power I am speaking of?”

“The Commandments?”

“Mhm. Nuadha was the King who was granted the Commandment that Judgement Saint now uses.”

“Was it that thing that you used on me a year ago?”

“I suppose?” Virgo said, unsure herself. “I don’t remember every little thing of combat. Bad habit of mine.”

“I suppose with your age—I mean with your experience, it’s understandable. What happened with that Nuadha bloke?”

“It’s fine, they call us Descendants old anyway.” Virgo waved her hand dismissively. This time, there was no one to stop her from yawning. “Excuse me, I fought recently, I’m still tired.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “Anyway, Nuadha went to war with the Greeks and got deported, I suppose.”

“Fought recently? With whom?”

“King Solomon.”

“I’m assuming that since you’re here… He’s dead?” At this point, Michael doubted she could mention a name that would surprise him.

“Of course. I reclaimed the Faerie Realm. He was a respectable King, but since he meant to challenge me with that bold action from last year—was it last year or ten years?—I had to return the favor.”

“Hm. Wait. Did you say Faerie Realm? You rule the Faerie Realm?!”

“Is that something new? Each of the Descendants are heirs to one of the Realms. It is like a birthright. We are the ones who allow the Realms to exist, after all.”

“Forgive my ignorance, but please consider that it was the Church that trained and raised me to be one of their hunters. To be completely honest, this affair with the Descendants is relatively recent news to me. But one would have to be a fool to not believe what I saw in that Lunar Temple.”

“What exactly did you witness in the Lunar Temple?”

“We fought you there, me along with some of the best mages from England. Sagittarius and another Descendant also helped us in fighting you. In the end, even with the appearance of King Arthur—or that’s what they called him—we failed to kill you. I stabbed you in the stomach there, but I doubt you’d remember.”

“Hazy at best, I admit. I only remember my exchange with Taurus and Sagittarius. However, what I am asking is not about me, but what you saw that changed you. Clearly, being unable to kill me wouldn’t spur a want for change now, is it?”

“I...” Michael braced himself, as recalling that incident had never resulted in anything good so far. “I met my father, Jesus Christ. I realized the farce that was the Church that I killed for. He used me as a toy to entertain himself… While I struggled… believing that what I was doing was for the greater good. That day, I lost everything to his whims.”

“Ah, the Lord who rose to the top of Heavens with his Virgin Mary—him. That is a Descendant I am not completely confident battling against.”

“I must confess, part of the change I seek is a world without him in it. And that is one of the reasons why I seek power.” He gripped his knees hard, to maintain control of himself.

“It is no surprise. Everyone seemed to want a God—someone they could believe in—a supreme being they could follow. No one wanted to follow a being they could see, feel, and understand. We looked alike, and it sparked distrust. When powers considered †˜godly’ would be demonstrated—the convenient label †˜monster’ would be thrown at our kind. When a God without form would be believed, some would ask for proof… it was a cycle of irony.”

“I am aware of the witch hunts he inspired. That is why… I would kill this false God.”

“By no means he is false. He is a legitimate God as long as he is a Descendant.”

Michael just kept silent, knowing what she said was true. His powers were the real deal, and he could not even compare his powers with their kind. “Even so.”

“The one who is false is whoever gave the idea of the world’s end upon the twelve Descendants meeting, though.” Virgo seemed to show a rare scoff.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the legend that seems to go around nowadays. The reason why they seem to be motivated to kill the Descendants. Fools do not realize that the world ends if the Descendants are killed.”

“But doesn’t that imply that it does not matter if the Descendant is him in particular? As long as someone worthy takes his place…”

“True, I suppose that is the only reason why the Blood Countess is able to kill a Descendant at all.”

“So it seems. Even if I disapproved of their methods, it is now clear to me that there are people not deserving of that godlike power your kind wields.”

“Unfortunately, your values and the values of the Celestial Spirits differs greatly. It is often necessary to place necessary evil in power. Even if you kill Jesus Christ, the Celestial Spirit would pass on to one of the many Apostles he has across the world. Those are his Representatives.”

“Then I will stand in vigil, I would not rest nor would I falter. If one such as he rises as God, then I would stand in their way as the Devil.” Michael knew of the foolishness of his quest; he was akin to an ant who wished to move a mountain. But it did not deter him in the slightest. “However, I do understand that if he cared enough, by a single wave of his hand he could end this life of mine.” Michael just smiled wearily towards her. “I realize I am not selling myself well.”

“You sure aren’t. I realize we have hit ourselves with quite the tangent.”

“That we did. I believe you were telling me about the Tribe of Dana? I have nothing else I can tell you about myself.”

“Right. My Kings fought the Greeks. I gave them many relics to work with but it seemed like things weren’t working out. Eventually, we didn’t last due to the Milesians, because by that time I had exhausted my powers. Contrary to the mythology—whoever that wrote it—Balor was the Countess of the present day, and she almost had me killed. Suffice it to say, my loss was the loss of the entire tribe, and without me the Kings were not as strong as they’d hoped to be. After Lugh—there was no hero. There was no Representative of mine to protect the tribe.”

“What did you do after that?” He was surprised that the Countess did not kill Dana then and there.

“It seemed like the two of us grew into a †˜healthy relation of rivalry,’ whatever that woman meant. After many bouts and my loss, I was lost to the seas for many decades. I think I was sleeping in the seas. Pardon, I do not remember myself. By the time I awoke, I was in Greece, and the rule of the Olympus had already came to an end.” She shrugged. “Thus began the thirsty search of a new God for the people of Greece, and a certain someone was there, just at the right time.”

“What did they call you then? Did you not seek revenge on the Countess for what she had done to you?”

“Not really. I do not hold grudges so easily. The only time was with the Saint of Summer and the humans… ah, but that is another story. The Countess was fighting me out of certain objectives, and was not necessarily someone who stooped to taking orders from others. I respected her myself. At that time I didn’t wanted to be known as the same Dana of the tribe they were so proud to have taken down. So I called myself… Alexandrina. It was a name I had simply overheard. A name of a child. Anyway, the Greeks desperately wanted a God, and they were not joking—they infused me with the Lunar Temple to make it a reality.”

“Alexandrina? You mean… the conqueror?” He did take note of the reason why she chose to fight in the Lunar Temple.

“Yes, Alexander the Great in history was a false record that was thought to be the truth. It’s not a surprise considering many other details seems to be recorded falsely.”

“True. So you went on a path of conquest? Why?”

“Well… how should I explain it? Once I was given the responsibility, I felt the need to take it up.” Virgo scratched her cheek lightly as she looked away. “At first I was not very comfortable, but I suppose I got carried away… by this time, the order of hierarchy changed—Kings were no longer led by a God, they were meant to be the God themselves.”

“And you defeated one, right? Does that mean the Persian king was a Representative too?”

“Hm? Which one? I’ve beat all kinds of people in my days.”

Michael scratched his cheek. He did not really read a lot of history to memorize names. “I guess that’s not important. What happened next, after being Alexandrina I mean? The books did say that †˜Alexander’ died young.”

“Ahh… yes. I had a friend throughout my life as Alexandrina. She was usually known as the Saint of Summer.” Virgo’s expression was a mix of nostalgia and melancholy as she spoke of the old friend. Somewhere along the way, a hint of anger mixed with her expression. “This person was one of the Descendants, and was extremely wise. She was even a †˜Counselor of Descendants’ at this point that it sounded ridiculous to say the least. However, one day, we were forced to battle.”

“By whom? Aren’t you two both Descendants?”

“It was a plot by the humans. They sought to be rid of me. Not only the surrounding leaders of the countries from the borders, but also some from my own country betrayed me…! I could not believe that humans would orchestrate a battle between my kin for selfish desires—to usurp the throne they painstakingly put me on. It was an irony I could not withstand.” Dana clenched her fist before it struck the table. “The Saint of Summers seemed to comply, finding reason in the words of humans, and we fought. She couldn’t kill me due to my Commandment. However, she chose to seal me that day. That is why I have realized—human beings are selfish. Their lives are short and they are shortsighted all the same. For power they lure with words they find suitable, and turn friendship, peace, and prosperity down all the same. I have no hopes left for them and now they are molesting nature as we speak. I realized that I must take up my blade against them.”

Michael was at a loss for words. He finally understood some of her reasons, and he had seen what inhumanities humans were capable of just to get ahead even by a step among their peers. At worst, sometimes they do it entirely for pleasure. But even then, he knew that the opposite also held true: he had seen humans who selflessly sacrificed their bright future, and sometimes even their lives and legacy in order to fight for what they believed would be the greater good.

It pained him to see that some of these martyrs died not knowing that they were just pawns in a game the Descendant Jesus was playing. But even then, he believed that their deaths weren’t futile.

“I believe… that there are some who would do the exact opposite of what those people did to you. I do not think humanity as a whole is corrupt. That is why… we must protect these exceptional few.”

“Unfortunately, the modern culture has drove them in the wrong direction.” Virgo sighed. “Nature cries at their actions. The civilizations are ever expanding, all the deforestations are a good example.”

“Then shouldn’t we put more effort into reclaiming these misdirected ones back onto the proper path? I believe that if they choose to listen and reject this culture of destruction you speak of… then even if it’s just a few of them—we can save.”

“True. There may yet be those few who are willing to understand. Perhaps the only path is to create a world anew with the brighter-minded individuals, after judging the world—mankind for its sins. To begin with, that is the answer to the question you had for me at first.”

“Then give me the power to execute the ones who corrupt these worthy individuals. Give me the chance to become the cleansing flame of this world!” Michael suddenly stood up, for reasons not exactly known to him. He just honestly felt like he should.


Virgo seemed to give an honest smile, something that missed the menacing aspect from a year ago.

“What a pair of wonderful eyes,” she repeated. “Not so lost as before.”

Michael returned Virgo’s smile, happy that they finally had an understanding.

Virgo suddenly held her temples.

“Someone is at it again…”

“What do you mean?” Michael asked as he immediately went to her side, as if out of habit. He looked around to see if there were any medicine cabinets in the room but found nothing.

“Someone is trying to break this world, and since I can feel the pain of the earth, it’s been a mind-numbing headache for the past year.”

“Break? Someone’s trying to destroy the world?”

“Yes. Small things like cutting trees or digging the earth causes a collective headache here and there, but when they forcibly create distortions then the matter changes altogether.”

“What do you mean by distortions? They are distorting what exactly?”

“The space itself gets distorted. It is a very dangerous phenomena, and countless souls have been lost to them before. One of the main reasons the cries of nature are an issue is because souls dies, and they do not go back to the Cycle of Rebirth as a result. The population of living beings decreases naturally as a result—which is why the humans are slowly killing life itself. Anyway, distortions are… sort of like… hmm, it is a little annoying to explain something like this. Think of it like the Realms breaking, or something.”

“But… what could cause such events? Nevermind that, how can we alleviate this headache of yours? Does Saint know? Should I call her?” It seemed that one year of purely caring for Flora instilled some things to Michael, like right now.

“By cleansing the damned world. I will be heading back to bed. I do not think I want to sin now for my stress. We will have the ritual to grant you your power and position in my retinue soon.”

“Wait, sin for what? How does committing a sin help your headache?”

Virgo got off and sat down on her bed. Her eyes seemed to be very tired.

“Each Descendant has their own conditions to sin, and each of them are some sort of pleasure. Anyway, when the Descendants are chosen, their Vices are set. The Vice is a curse and a blessing, but I am not going to commit such an act now.”

“If that is your decision, then you should rest, at least. I will see if I can scrounge up something better than an apple by the time you wake up,” Michael said as he left the room, leaving Virgo to rest.

“MARY!”

Michael jolted up from his bed gasping for air as if he was chasing someone. His head was feeling light-headed, but it was his mind that was in disarray. He took deep breathes as he recalled what happened last night—and more importantly, who he really was. Still confused, he looked around the room wordlessly and saw a few blood packets attached to his arm which he promptly ripped off. He stood up, completely naked and scrounged for a decent set of pants in the room and put them on.

He closed his eyes as he thought of things he should—or could do. He was stuck here a year, but one of Virgo’s Representatives befriended and mentored him in the time he was staying with the vampire here, ignorant of his mission.

He walked towards the door, with just his pants on, and not even wearing any footwear as he first decided to confront his Mistress—the vampire, White Lotus.

When he had arrived in her room, he stopped in front of the door as he thought of how to confront her. She was deeply attached to him, and that could be useful to him. He knocked on her door softly, as he used to as her butler. As he did so, he noticed his hands were shaking and it was then that he realized. It was like with that dog Marco all over again.

His anger was slowly crawling up all over him, like a malevolent entity crawling up in his body, enveloping him with the abyss. He gritted his teeth as he ignored the feeling and called out to Lotus.

“Mistress? Can I come in?”

Hearing no response from her, Michael got impatient and kicked her door wide open.

His Mistress seemed to be asleep in amidst of the mess that her room still was. However, she seemed to look much worse than before in complexion. Sleep wasn’t improving her conditions apparently.

Michael sat beside her sleeping figure on the bed, and brushed her hair away from her face. “Mistress. Wake up,” he said in a louder voice, almost shouting. He felt angry, but not towards her. Not completely.

“What do you want?” White Lotus questioned, her eyes still closed.

“Where is my equipment?”

“Who knows.”

Michael slammed the bed beside her head and shouted at her.

“Tell me!”

“What would you do with it?”

“I will have my revenge,” Michael’s voice didn’t have the kind of tone Lotus was used to after having him serve her for a year.

“You are mine… and I am not letting you off the leash.”

“You… you will not stand in my way.” His anger slowly started to leak, his face contorting with his fury. His voice sounded malevolent as his face got closer and closer to Lotus’.

“You would dare disobey your Mistress?” White Lotus sat up straight on her bed, her eyes glimmering crimson with anger.

“If you get in my way,” Michael jumped backwards to create some distance from Lotus. He knew it would come to this. He should’ve brought a weapon. “...Then I will have to kill you.”

“There is no other way, is there?” White Lotus got off her bed, her hair floating up unnaturally. It was just like the night they first met—the night they fought for the first time.

“It is the only path that is left to me. For what it’s worth… this past year is one of the best I’ve had.” Michael ran towards Lotus recklessly—he had no weapon nor any protection—and knew it was a suicidal charge at best, but he wouldn’t back down, never again.


The hairs surrounding White Lotus mercilessly lashed upon Michael, forcing him down to the floor.

“If it was the best, isn’t it a fucking waste to take that path?”

“You don’t understand! The time I wasted playing house with you here, is time he remains alive!”

“You would be wasting time there! Getting yourself killed is what you should be avoiding at all costs!”

“I am already dead! What I saw… what he did to me.” Tears flowed from his eyes as he recalled suffering hell itself, more than enough for a million lifetimes. “No! No more...” Michael tried to push back with his arms and legs, but Lotus’ hair continued to hold him down.

“Stay with me, Michael… it’s not too late. Don’t throw your life away like this.”

“You release me now or I kill myself right here and now.” Michael smirked towards her. “My death is for you to decide, Mistress.”

White Lotus looked down, the hairs retracted and Michael was soon released. “So be it…”

“I knew we could come to an agreement!” he cheerfully said, as if what transpired earlier was just a dream. “Now, where would I find my equipment?”

With a black wind the pajamas of White Lotus were replaced with a black battle attire. Her eyes turned darker, still carrying a shade of red. A sword formed and she grabbed the crimson blade before having it faced with Michael on the floor.

“If you won’t do as I say then I will break your arms and legs to make sure you can’t kill yourself,” his former Mistress coldly stated, her voice sounding more mature than before. He soon noticed that her height had increased too; White Lotus had become older.

Michael just sighed, not moving from his current position.

“Now... why would you do you that? I have no choice but to kill you now.” He rolled backwards and quickly formed the silver bow in his hand.

“Why? Why do you think I would? Just as your heart is telling you to go, mine is to restrain you here.” She made a wry smile. “It’s the only fucking way, really. You promised you’d stay, after all.”

Michael nocked an arrow on his bow, aiming for her heart. He felt comfort in the abyss that consumed him, and right now it was telling him to kill her and take his revenge. His arms shook as he maintained his aim. He thought it would be easy to just release the arrow and be done with it, but he was hesitating. A part of him wanted to stay, to take care of her. Deep beneath the fury that consumed him was someone who loved this woman he was about to kill.

“Please… just forget about me.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“Then this is goodbye.” Michael released the arrow aimed at her heart.

(BGM: http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=TpyNl5Odpzo&p=n)

White Lotus cut the projectile in two coldly.

The two clashed in combat moments later. The house was littered with holes made from beams all across the walls and floors. Having the mansion turn into a battlefield didn’t seem to baffle either of the fighters as Michael repeatedly lashed out with his newfound powers.

They danced across the hallways. White Lotus didn’t even need to use her hairs to overpower Michael as she sent him down, crashing from the upper floor. His back fell atop the floor on the ground floor’s carpet, the main halls that he used to clean till yesterday. Before Michael could get up, he found Flora’s sword by his throat.

“Do it...” Michael released the bow in his hand. “DO IT!”

She only held a pained expression but pushed her sword forward nonetheless.

“What?!”

With a bright light, White Lotus found herself on the floor, away from Michael.

Michael got up and found the Saint behind him.

“You don’t need your old equipment,” the nun claimed. “You’re more than strong enough for her now.”

“Don’t listen to her!” White Lotus shouted, getting back to her feet, wiping her blood from under her lips.

“The sword that was at my throat says otherwise.” Michael couldn’t even face Lotus as he ignored her. “Did your Master think of my offer?”

“No idea, to be honest. I’m just here to help a pupil.” The Saint gave a smug smile, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, don’t you think, kiddo?”

“...You’re enjoying this.” Michael summoned the bow again, and he channeled his anger in order to get the motivation to fight Lotus once more. If I fail to do this… I cannot take my revenge.

A light started to emanate from Michael’s form, a halo forming faintly. A holy power seemed to come forth from his core, but only he seemed to be oblivious to this strength. Michael drew his bow once more, but something felt different. A single white arrow formed on the bow, which started emanating white light that took the shape of wings that decorated the bow. Aiming at Lotus once more, he released the white arrow which formed a thin white light that headed towards her. Suddenly, thinner strips of light started to join the primary one and melded with it. When it reached her, it was already a massive beam of light that enveloped her.

With a cry of steel, and shattering noise, the blade of White Lotus broke in half and the arrow pierced through her chest, burning her bones and heart completely. Eventually, she met the wall of the halls behind her.

“Mi…cha…el.”

White Lotus’ hand was outstretched towards Michael before she fell down to the carpet, soaking it with her blood.

It was when he fired the arrow with the white light that his anger suddenly evaporated. It was too late for him and Lotus as he watched his own arrow pierce her, his last remaining picture of a peaceful life. What was he thinking when he fired that arrow? He ran towards her side and enveloped her hand with his as he rested her head on his lap.

“Flora. I learned your name was Flora… I’m sorry. I—I had to do it.”

Tears freely flowed from his face as he added another body to the piles he had killed. Another one he loved whom he had caused suffering to, and this one completely by his choice. He could’ve asked her to come. He could’ve sneaked away in the cover of the night. Why did he choose to kill her? Unknown to him, he was already gripping her hand tightly, as if regretting his choice.

“I’m sorry.”

“I… I just wanted to be with you…” Flora was interrupted, vomiting a copious amount of blood. “Why did it have to be… like this?”

“I… don’t. I don’t know. What have I done?” Michael hugged her tightly. “No… No! Don’t go! I’m sorry… drink my blood—that would help you heal, right? Don’t go… Don’t leave me!”

“There is nothing that can heal a heart, Michael,” the Saint said. “You have killed the one who loved you—you must accept this.”

“…I’d never leave your side, remember?” Michael continued to hug Flora, ignoring Saint’s advice. He always knew about the demon inside he was repressing. Mary tried to help him, and he refused. Now he had killed Lotus, and who knew who else he would kill in the future? It was at this moment he truly understood, this moment where he killed his only chance for a peaceful, normal life. His path was now execution, and on the top of the list that was the man who played with him and the ones he cared about, his lord and father—Jesus.

“You… are… fr...ee now… not my… butl...er… anymore,” Flora could just barely speak, coughing away more of her blood. “I’m sorry… for… being selfish.”

Michael pushed her up and kissed her, perhaps for the final time. His body started to give the white glow again. When his kiss ended, he only now noticed that his body was glowing with a mysterious power. The shine extended to Flora from his fingers.

“What’s happening?!” He turned to Saint, who was just watching the scene unfold. “What’s happening to us?”

“It seems like your… spiritual energy is entering her body.”

“What? Is she going to be okay?!” Michael would cling at anything, even small semblances of hope now.

“Pour more of it, why don’t you?” The Saint shrugged. “If you keep going you’d merge your soul with her’s.”

“What—how? What does that even…” Michael looked back at Flora, wondering if doing what Saint said would save her. He closed his eyes as he tried to search for the source of power that was causing this event. Eventually he just focused on his will to save Flora, no matter what the cost. As he did so, the white light started covering her rapidly, until they were both glowing in white.

“It means she becomes one with you. I don’t know what will happen if you mix yourself with an Infernal’s soul.” The Saint shrugged again. “Only one way to find out here too, eh?”

“No… she’s only Flora. She was possessive and extreme, but she was just a lonely girl,” Michael replied as he touched her lifeless cheek.

The light surrounding the two intensified. A strong gale was formed as the spiritual energy poured into Flora’s soul.

When Michael opened his eyes, the lights were gone. He looked down at Flora again, her eyes were completely still and devoid of life.

“I guess it was too good to be true, huh?” Michael had a remorseful smile in his face as he laid Flora down on the ground, closing her eyes before he finally stood up. Michael closed his eyes as he focused, his determination could be seen blazing in his eyes as he opened them. “I’m ready.”

“Stand still for a bit.”

The Saint placed a finger on Michael’s forehead for some moments. Nothing seemed to happen, nothing he could tell, anyway. She soon retracted her finger and suddenly, Michael felt as though an arising pain in his heart was quelled.

“Thank you.” Michael suddenly felt awfully calm. It initially disturbed him at first, but now he was grateful for her being there. He looked around the nearly-wrecked mansion and then Flora’s corpse before speaking, “I need to bury her first.”

“Need any help with that?”

“No… this is something I need to do by myself. You can wait for me outside,” Michael said as he walked, heading towards the shed.







“What do we do now?” Michael asked as he approached the mansion gates where Saint was waiting.

After burying Flora and giving his final farewells, he found a canister of gas in the shed and decided to set the mansion aflame after searching for his possessions. If one would look at him now, he was covered in soot and caked with blood, and his face was nearly expressionless if not for the traces of his crying from earlier. He held in his arm his currently tattered coat, which he got from the vampire Marco, and his mother’s pendant was once again hanging from his neck.

“Do you remember who you are now, Michael?”

“Yes. I remember everything, Saint. Or should I start calling you Miss Saint now?” Michael asked her jokingly.

“Some manners wouldn’t hurt,” the Saint answered in a joking tone.

“I thought we were closer than that. So, what was that white aura?”

“You seem to have something in you that… could be a gift of God?”

“Pfft…” Michael held his stomach as he failed to hold his laughter back. “Hahaha… Thanks, I needed that.”

“Jokes aside, I do not have a good grasp on what it is. You have a unique hidden power, and that’s all I know. Doubt that’s enough for your Lord.”

“That brings us back to where we started before you guys wiped me of my memories. Is she here?”

“Are you even sure about this?” The Saint scratched the back of her head after a sigh. “You were trying to kill her. She was trying to kill you. I honestly thought you hated her kind.”

“I did, but her power was true, and it was offered to me. I cannot move forward without her help. Even if she was the Devil, I’d make the same deal.” Michael took a deep breath before continuing, “At least… I should hear her out. I am done killing on somebody’s whims, I am done being fooled by delusions of paradise. I shall obtain power and shape it on my own.”

“Beware of what you seek. Power is an absolute strength, but it is also something that can destroy oneself. I don’t know… there’s something about you that hasn’t change since last year. That lack of loyalty, but maybe it’s me overthinking.”

“I know. Power by itself would just corrupt me if I am the one being controlled by it. That is also why I want an audience with her, to understand her cause, and to find out how she keeps it together.”

“Alright, I’ll take †˜ya. Just don’t be so hasty about things.”

A month had passed since the time Michael visited the business that his Mistress ran. He visited the auctions with her every night. Thankfully, their encounter with Crimson was not repeated. During the days, Michael put more effort into practicing his bow and he also picked up the sword once again. A wooden one, for now.

As he used more mana from the Dominion Realm, Michael started to recall clearer memories and faces. He realized he was in the profession of hunting vampires, and he recalled his encounters; Mister Bram, Marco whom he hated personally for some reason, and he recalled meeting with a blonde haired vampire who leaked information from the Countess—Rose. He did feel disappointed and angry at Lotus for a while, but he felt nothing that would urge him to return to the Church. Rather, what he felt was animosity towards his former Organization. For what, he couldn’t recall.

Eventually, he got over it. Lotus cared for him, and he didn’t have to kill for a living anymore, and he preferred this life now. There were various feelings he couldn’t understand, memories that made no sense, and voices he couldn’t identify, but it was worth the peace he was living in now. He wiped the sweat off his brow as he looked as his handiwork. Now the yard was completely clean of falling leaves.

When he entered the mansion, he heard the bell ring. He went over to the security panel to check who it was. The computer screen showed a familiar face with the help of a camera. It was Rose, standing in front of the gates. He pressed the a button to use the intercom and spoke, “Good day! May I ask the purpose of your visit?”

“Appointment with Flora,” Rose answered. “Is she at home?”

“Who?”

“The owner of this house—Flora.”

“No, Mistress Lotus owns this house. I think you want some other estate, Miss.”

“You work in this house and do not know that White Lotus is an epithet?”

“To be fair, I didn’t find out my own name until months after working here. Please enter.” Michael opened the gates with a press of the button. He immediately headed towards the entrance to welcome their guest.

When Michael looked up at the guest, he honestly thought that she was here to party. Her black corset was a fashionable wear, but it felt out of place with the sunny surroundings. Her blonde hair and bright red eyes confirmed it for him that it was indeed the vampire Rose, who was a traitor of the Blood Countess, and the Organization that White Lotus worked for.

“Please follow me.” He decided to fake not knowing about her betrayal of the Countess as he smiled towards Rose and bowed. “I shall inform the Mistress of your arrival.”

“Hey.” She held Michael’s hand and pulled him up to her. “Are you fine… working for them like this?”

“What ever do you mean, Miss?” Michael tilted his head and smiled at her. He just prayed that the Mistress didn’t see them like this.

Rose almost found herself biting Michael’s neck but stopped herself. She palmed her forehead, pinched her nose bridge and sighed, letting go of the former priest. Michael could tell from her eyes that she was sleep deprived.

“Whatever. Seems like you are what they say you had become.”


“I don’t mind if you have a snack, if that would help. Just don’t do it where the Mistress could see.” Michael ignored what Rose said. If he truly had hunted their kind, it was just a part of his past. Something happened and he was a vampire’s butler now; that was what was important to him at the moment. “I can’t hold a grudge with just fragments,” he whispered to himself as he refrained from moving, standing closely in front of Rose.

“Is… is that really acceptable?” Rose asked.

“Just don’t kill me, or get us caught,” he joked, loosening his tie. “Or do you not want to?”

“I do not like drinking the blood of people… it is just that I have to…” Rose’s eyes were already brightly shining to the allure of blood.

“I’d rather you do this than you having to drink some innocent’s blood. Think of it as a snack, perhaps?” Michael finished unbuttoning his shirt as he held one side open, exposing his heavily scarred body. Michael gestured with his head, urging her to drink in a place that wouldn’t be noticeable when he closed his shirt. “Hurry now, before the Mistress sees.”

“Please excuse me, then.”

Rose hesitantly made contact with Michael, holding him with hands that seemed to fidget—no, her entire body probably was fidgeting all the same. She dug her fangs into him after seemingly taking a long breath, sucking out his blood, starting with a long drag. She finally released the restraints of hesitation when she desperately sucked out even more blood, almost making Michael wince, who thought he was used to this kind of treatment. Rose seemed dazed as she retracted her fangs, her lips covered with the former priest’s blood.

“Michael! Who was it that rang the door bell?”

He heard the voice of his Mistress and perked up.

“Michae—”

His Mistress appeared from a door, her eyes falling at the two on the corner of the hallway.

“Oh. Your guest needed a snack, Mistress.” Michael calmly buttoned up his shirt, but in his head he was panicking more than that time Crimson almost killed them both. His instincts were shouting at him to run away now, but he knew that doing so would put the final nail in his coffin. “Miss Rose wanted to see you. I was just about to call you, too!”

“You what?!” White Lotus shouted. She seemed to be quivering with violent rage. “Rose… how dare you?!”

Rose only sighed, and was very much regretting her action. “It was just a little bite…”

“That’s my servant’s blood! And my l-lov—anyway, he’s mine! Don’t ever touch him or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Now, that is just overboard,” Rose commented with a dry tone.

“Now, now Mistress, we should focus first on the purpose of Miss Rose’s visit.”







“So, what do you want?” White Lotus inquired, still grumpy.

“Just here to check up on an old friend. To think you are the haggard lady I am sitting with now… and I used to play with as a kid.”

“Hmph.” White Lotus scoffed. Her frown couldn’t get any worse. “Fuck if I care. If that’s all, then you can go.”

“Language, Mistress. The incident earlier was my fault, and the Mistress shouldn’t blame her friend,” Michael stood behind White Lotus, and was thinking of a way to diffuse the situation. “Would the Mistress and her guest like some cake perhaps? Or wine?”

“Get the special drink,” White Lotus ordered. “And some cakes too.”

Michael bowed as he exited the room, headed for the kitchen and the cellar. He felt happy that his Mistress had a friend over, and it was noticeable by the tune he was humming. As he prepared the tray of food, Michael took some time to bandage the bite wound that Rose gave him before heading back towards the room. He knocked twice at the door and cheerfully said, “Mistress, I have arrived with your food.”

After hearing her allowing him to come on in, he pushed the cart inside the room and started pouring the wine—blood, as he found out earlier, into the wine glasses. He put them in a tray along with the sliced strawberry shortcake he baked and placed them on the coffee table in-between the two women. Afterwards, he returned the cart to the side and returned to his place behind his Mistress.

“What is…” Rose glared at the drink.

“It’s not hard to tell,” White Lotus—or as Michael recently found out—Flora said.

“I am sorry, but please bring me water or… wine, just not… not this,” Rose requested.

“You drink my servant’s blood directly and now you wouldn’t have this drink… made from his blood?”

“Just the heat of the moment. I have not drunk for five months, so I made a mistake…”

“A mistake… you should’ve just… actually, what the fuck? For five months—how did you not drink any blood for that long?”

“Well, I hate blood,” Rose admitted. “I do not want to drink any more human blood. It is disgusting.”

“You are fucking going against our kind here…”

“Mistress,” Michael interrupted the two.

“What?”

“Language.”

White Lotus grumbled. “Fuck your language, I’m having a serious talk here.”

“Then I shall go, I will not look at the Mistress being like this. Please excuse me.” Michael bowed as he headed to the door.

White Lotus was thus heartbroken, her hand drawn up to the butler’s leaving form, yet she couldn’t seemed to find a word to say.

“Look what you have done,” Rose said with a smirk.

“Shut up!”







Evening came, and Michael was in the kitchen preparing dinner. He placed the tray with the salmon which was submerged in the poaching mixture in the oven, and he started preparing the sauce for the dish. He hummed to himself as the scent of shallots and garlic being slowly sauteéd in butter on the pan filled the room, while taking a glance at the recipe book.

Rose had already left in the afternoon, saying that she had other business to attend to, and his Mistress was in her room, mood sour still from the silent treatment he had been giving her.

Michael decided to make up with White Lotus with this dinner, so he chose to prepare that salmon he was saving for an occasion, and a strawberry millefeuille as dessert.

The ding of the other oven where he cooked the pastries for the dessert woke him up from his trance, and he took the frying pan off the fire. He added the aromatic contents of the pan into the blender along with the other components of the sauce, squeezing half a lemon and adding some salt and pepper before mixing it up. He left the freshly-made cream sauce in the blender and took out the pastries from the oven, spreading the icing made of cocoa powder and sugar onto them. He set the chocolate-covered pastry as he began assembling the dessert, putting a couple layers of cream and berries over a plain pastry before topping it off with the chocolate covered one.

Just as he finished layering the millefeuille, another timer dinged telling him that the salmon was ready, so he took it out of the oven for it to finish cooking in the heated tray. He returned to the dessert, putting it to a plate, drizzling a bit of chocolate sauce on the side. He took another plate where he carefully placed the salmon, spooning a bit of sauce from the blender and adding steamed vegetables on the side. Satisfied with his dishes, he placed both plates on the cart, covering them separately with a metallic dome cover.

Taking a moment to breathe, he smiled to himself and wondered what his Mistress would think of the food he prepared. Immediately, he remembered how harsh she’d usually be with judging his food. It made him frown and feel disheartened when she didn’t clean the plate up.

He looked at the clock and saw it was nearly dinner time, so he cleaned his hands and removed his apron with the phrase “kiss the chef” stitched onto it. He took one final glance at the kitchen and the mess in it, deciding to clean it up later as he pushed the tray with Lotus’ dinner on it.

As he reached White Lotus’ room, he knocked on the door twice and announced that dinner was ready.

“I have prepared a special dinner for you, Mistress! I apologize for my actions earlier, so please open the door.”

There was no response for some time. Michael waited for some moments before his heart finally sank from the silence. He knocked again, still feeling optimistic.

“Don’t want it…”

The butler heard a muffled, low voice.

“It wasn’t a suggestion!” Michael cheerfully announced as he opened the door and pushed the cart in.

The room seemed like a complete mess. Michael found some torn glasses and pillows, some of the furnitures were broken and it simply seemed like an unholy storm had sent the room to hell and back and forth. Something along the lines of that. He looked down at his Mistress lying down on the bed covered in a blanket with her face down. She was completely silent.

“Well, here’s one room that would need some cleaning,” he commented as he stood beside White Lotus, pulling the blanket off her. “Mistress, please eat your dinner properly. If you do, I have a very special surprise for you.”

The white hair of the White Lotus grabbed Michael and pulled him over to the bed. By the time he could look up to make out what was going on, he was on her bed with his Mistress sitting atop him. Her pajamas were loose and ruffled, revealing a shoulder. Despite her laziness, she still smelled nice and the alluring charms of his Mistress had caught him off-guard.

“Alright then, dessert first I guess.” Michael was unable to resist his Mistress’ temptation, as he sat up, and attempted to push her back with his arm and took her lips with that of his own.

Michael and his Mistress’ tongues intertwined under the confines of their lips, saliva tripped as they passionately indulged each other in the act. White Lotus embraced him throughout the kissing; it felt rather desperate how she locked him under her seemingly-frail arms. Even her hair seemed to cover him, which she had never done before.

The two parted for a moment, and White Lotus pushed her butler back to the bed. With a moan, Michael could tell that his Mistress was in pain. They skipped the foreplay, after all. With the shaking of her hips, Michael saw a grotesque smile that he had never seen before. Her lips stretched wide and her tongue hung from her mouth, with the rest of her expression contorted with pleasure.

“You’re mine!” she squealed. “Mine! Mine!” she repeated loudly. “Not Rose… or anyone else’s!”

After some time, she bit on the corner of his neck, her fangs digging into the skin and drinking a copious amount of blood, relishing the taste with the pleasure to a degree one would consider extreme while Michael winced from the pain. This was much more intense from the way his blood was sucked by Rose earlier in the day.

“M-Mistress...” He felt lightheaded from the amount of blood being sucked by her. However, the intensity of her hips kept on waking him up. He felt glad most of his blood was far, far down his body. He pushed on her head with a hand as he tried to keep up with her rhythm, and each time their hips met, it felt stronger than the one before.

When the two reached climax, however, White Lotus seemed to be crying. As if something about doing all of this felt wrong, as if something significant was missing.

“Why her…” she mumbled. “Why are you like this? What am I doing wrong…?”

Michael was still basking in his Mistress’ warmth around him as he heard her sobbing and barely caught what she had said.

“What do you mean, Mistress?” he asked while stroking her hair with his hand.

“I mean you’re a jerk!”

“Am I at least a lovable jerk?” he asked, smiling.

“Will you stay with me forever?” White Lotus asked with a warmth he had recently missed. “I keep seeing… bad dreams of you.”

“I will be by your side as long as you want me to.” Michael purposely ignored her second statement, as he believed that they should just focus on the good things. He had had quite a few nightmares but he tended to just ignore them. This was his place now, right beside his Mistress.

Despite his words, the Mistress continued from her previous statement. “I kept seeing that damned Mary Shelley taking you away… i-it scares me.”

“Ma…ry?” Michael suddenly pushed White Lotus aside as he bolted up. He held his head with both his hands as he fell to his knees as soon as he stood up. Mumbling to no one in particular, he leaned his back towards the edge of the bed and continued chanting to himself.

When he heard Mary Shelley’s name, a deluge of memories bursted out in his brain, and the feelings that he kept bottled slowly started to make sense. However, as he started to recall, images of various heinous acts from unknown sinners started to corrupt memories he just knew he had.

At this point, he began questioning his own sanity as his blood and his body felt hotter and hotter as if he was being roasted alive. Finally he saw him. His father, his lord, the schemer—and the one who took her away from him. He was smiling at him mockingly, laughing at him for failing to protect the ones he cared about.

“Die… die, die, die, die die die die die die die die!” he shouted the last line, finally passing out.

There was a stage all the way down on the hall. White Lotus sat very high among the levels of seats prepared. The audience seemed to have a system whereas the members with higher status were on the higher levels, while the lower levels would consist of the more weaker Infernals. Weak in terms of both power and wealth. It seemed like White Lotus was the administrator who was running the black markets for selling children in the United States. She was also prominent with drug deals, and her butler only learned of these things tonight.

Ever since the incident with Virgo’s attack in the United States, many things had become easier for the Infernals, and much harder for the MVA. Even the mundanes suffered to this day thanks to their government having issues with putting the country back together. Regardless, an year had only passed and it was not enough, apparently.

White Lotus seemed to be staring with hardly any interest at the new “products” being sold. Some Arab children were tied up with chains.

“This seems like a big operation,” Michael commented. While he didn’t agree with the operation as a whole, he could still appreciate the scale of the thing in front of him.

When the bidding started for the children, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted of the bidders below him in general.

Meanwhile, his Mistress yawned in plain display out of boredom.

“Just another day at work,” she said.

“So every night the Mistress goes out, she goes to… these?”

“Uh, yeah. I have to run this place after all.”

“Additionally, please cover your mouth when yawning, Mistress.” He was surprised about hearing that his Mistress owned this slavery ring. He hoped that it was inherited, or at least she wasn’t the brains that established this kind of business. “So how did the Mistress come to manage this operation?”

“Manners are such a pain.” White Lotus just grumbled after she spoke. She rubbed her eyes. There were always bags under them. Some things never changed. “I sorta got it handed to me by the Mistress—that is the Countess. One of the ways to get funds and all.”

“By the Countess, you mean that lady who visits you sometimes?” She did seem more like the type of person who would mastermind this kind of thing, and she was apparently White Lotus’ superior, probably her progenitor too. “So are these… things vampires too?”

“Not everyone—some of them. That guest only came once, but… yeah. She is my boss.”


“Did I know her? She seemed to know something about me.”

“Who knows.” White Lotus looked away with a sour look.

Michael just smiled to himself as his hand unconsciously went on top of his Mistress’ head and started stroking her hair. “There, there... that expression doesn’t suit your pretty face, Mistress.”

“Hmph. Mind your own business.”

“You are my business.”

At this moment, Michael noticed that he and White Lotus were being stared at by the people from the lower parts of the auditorium. One particular man was staring at his Mistress lecherously, prompting Michael to glare at the guy until he sank back into the crowd.

“I don’t want you to moderate my expression too.”

“Then should I stop looking at the Mistress too?” he teased.

Her cold expression seemed to crumble almost instantly, showing a shy face.

“Idiot.”

“I’ll take that as a no. I am grateful, Mistress. So these people staring at you, is this common too, Mistress?”

At the very least, it was irritating him now.

“Me? Not you?”

“Indeed. Why would they stare at me, even?”

“I dunno about me. I know they’d look at you since you’re… food to them.”

“Well, they could try, but I wouldn’t want the Mistress to lose her customers.”

“They won’t. I’ll cut their gut open if they try.”

“I suppose there’s that too.” Michael wiped his brow with a handkerchief. There should be something he could do to diffuse this situation. From the depths of his heart, there was an urge to just kill them all, and as time passed by it was slowly becoming harder for him to control it.

White Lotus turned an eye to the right. A woman with bright scarlet hair sat beside her. Michael, who was simply standing beside White Lotus looked down, but something about this person gave him a hint of fear.

“I see you’re back, Crimson.”

“Yes. How are the proceedings nowadays?” The scarlet woman seemed to speak in a manner that showed no emotion.

“As usual. We haven’t had any attacks unlike the past year, and I hope the funds will be raised to meet the quota.”

“I have heard news that differs from your statement.”

“Pardon?”


“There are a lack of kidnappings and the routes are being blocked. Why would you not take the steps to fix this issue?”

White Lotus fell silent for some moments. “So you’ve heard of it,” she said with a sour face again. “I don’t feel like it. I’d rather spend time at hom—”


“And who do you think gave you the luxury of a mansion?” The woman named “Crimson” gave Michael a glance. “And enough assets to buy a butler?”

“...Alright, I get it. Fucking hell.”

“It would do you well to have proper manners. My apprentice’s tongue was similar to yours now that I think of it.”

“Language, Mis—” Michael was cut off by the scarlet-haired woman. It seemed that she was the one who was monitoring White Lotus’ progress, and while he agreed about the manner part, this woman just ticked him off. An impression he made prominent as he glared at the woman. “Please don’t compare the Mistress to some apprentice.”

Crimson seemed to give Michael a look as though she only registered his existence as a living being for the first time. Until now, he was basically a decoration.

“Do not speak as you are on the know. My apprentice is worth more than a lackey who is your Mistress.”

“Better sell your dog here, then.” Now, Michael was infuriated. “Your apprentice won’t even have the honor of glancing at the Mistress, for I would not allow it!”

“No one cares. If my supposed †˜dog’ was sold here, she would kill your Mistress by now.”

“No one would fear a dog who can’t even show itself. You can keep your insults to yourself until your apprentice proves it is even worth feeding, Madam—”

“D-Don’t mind him, Crimson. He has bad manners sometimes.” Michael’s Mistress used her white hair to close Michael’s mouth as she defended him, but Crimson herself seemed to be emotionless. Despite the fact that Michael couldn’t see her, he still couldn’t shake off the fear in mind.

Michael crossed his arms and looked away from both Crimson and Lotus. He swore that one of these days he would teach both Crimson and her apprentice a lesson. It surprised him that his Mistress didn’t mind the insults and even apologized for him, but he wouldn’t let this pass. He did note how confident Crimson was with her apprentice, and how afraid his Mistress was of her. All the more reason to improve my training with Saint. “Mmpmhmmphhm,” he huffed angrily.

“It will be your job to teach him his place, Lotus. Otherwise it would not be very pretty,” Crimson said with a certain hint of strictness, pointing at Michael’s Mistress.

“Y...Yes,” White Lotus gave a nod, still looking sour, like a child being reprimanded by a mother.

“Mmphmm! Mm mmpmp mph!” Michael pointed towards Crimson angrily. He then stomped in between his Mistress and Crimson and continued ranting, sort of.

Crismon took up her hand and White Lotus immediately grasped her neck, unable to breath. When Michael tried to do something, he couldn’t move at all. Instead, the butler’s feet took off from the floor. He was suffocating and he couldn’t breath.

At first, he tried to identify the spell she was using in order to get a chance to break it, but failed. He was able to control his panic as he scrimmaged for more ideas in his head, even just to save his Mistress. He stretched his arm to the side and tried to call for the silver bow, but as it was forming, the grip on his neck became tighter, and he lost his concentration. Running out of options, he threw his silver pocket watch towards Crimson.

The woman simply waved her hand a bit and the silver pocket watch bounced as it fell down the levels of the audience section. She gave her hand another wave and Michael fell down to the floor after being swept to the corner. It just so turned out that he was lumped with the Mistress. They were both soundly deported, and it seemed like they attracted some eyes.

Michael pushed himself up and put himself between White Lotus and the crowd of people. He was wheezing and disheartened, but protecting White Lotus was his first priority. He glared at the people looking at them as he slowly walked backwards towards her, kneeling beside her.

“Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Do I look like it?” his Mistress said with a scoff, her face full of irritation. White Lotus got up and she was in the worst mood she could get, while Crimson seemed to have walked away already. “That bitch. She could just go easy on us. I guess to her that’s †˜easy’ already.”

“Forgive my incompetence, Mistress. I should carry a weapon rather than rely on my spellcasting.” He noticed that White Lotus and his instincts were correct to fear Crimson.

“It’s fine, you wouldn’t be able to beat her with a weapon anyway. Neither of us could.” White Lotus scoffed. “That bitch’s apprentice… Claudia seems to be getting much stronger too.”

“Claudia? In any case… I cannot accept this, I will seek power if need be.” Michael took note of Crimson’s apprentice name. It didn’t even take him a minute to figure out the connections between Crimson, Claudia, and the guest his Mistress had a few months ago, and somehow, he was connected with at least two of them.

“What a pair of lost—searching pupils they are. Searching ever more for… power? I like your eyes.”

“What do you fight for?”

Michael shook his head as some of his memories surfaced at this inopportune time. He recalled being at close distance with an incredibly beautiful woman, a beauty he could compare to the Archangel Zophiel, but he couldn’t recall the circumstances.

“Anyway, we’re going home. I don’t like… this much attention.”

“As you wish, Mistress.”

“So, it’s been five months. How is your training proceeding?”

This voice belonged to a nun wearing a black and white habit. Something that he found very familiar—much more than before.

The butler of the house who was serving his Mistress was to be trained almost an year ago, and ever since, he had been under the “Saint's” tutelage. However, for a mentor, the Saint was almost always neglecting him and would hardly ever come to check up on him.

“Good morning, the training’s doing quite well actually,” Michael greeted, releasing the nocked silver arrow from the silver bow. A ray of light, thinner than the one Saint showed him a few months back, pierced a new hole through the table he was using as a makeshift target. “There’s tea on the table. The table beside you I mean.”

When Michael turned to the Saint, she had already finished half of said tea.

“Hm, not bad, not bad.” The Saint didn’t even take a peek at his projectile. “How’ve you been?”

Michael just shrugged as he drew the bow once more.

“Nothing worth telling. I finally managed to copy the recipe of that cake. Don’t tell the Mistress though, she thinks I still buy from that place.” He decided that the time he was using going back and forth would better be spent practicing. He did recall a few more things from before he lost his memories, but those things didn’t really help him find out who he was exactly. Rather, it confused him even more. “How about you?”

“Tired, to be honest, went back and forth between hell. Sounds oddly peaceful here.” The Saint finished the cup of tea. “How’s your relation with the Mistress going? Anything odd happen recently?”


MIchael, after hearing Saint’s question, accidentally let his arrow loose, and it was way off-mark, which was proven by the sound of various things breaking. “Define odd.”

“Get a dictionary.” She finished her tea and placed the cup on the saucer on the table. “No really, nothing that seemed… out of the blue?”

“What, like drinking blood? Or do you mean her odd tastes in evening activi—those things seem normal, to her at least. If anything, her going outside would be out of the blue.”

“Her going out would be out of the blue?”

“She could use a bit more sunlight, don’t you think? Not that she’d agree with me though.” Michael released the bow in his hand and it disintegrated into particles. “Really, she should take care of herself more. It makes me worry, you know?”

Sunlight? Heh. “Well, you’re there for that reason—but that’s not the perplexing part, don’t you think? The fact that you don’t see her going out, I mean.”

“So, you want to talk about her being a vampire, or am I missing something else?”

“I met her last night,” the Saint said with her usual smug smile. “I was wondering why she didn’t have you as an escort, is all.”

“I mean, it would be stupid of me not to notice her drinking blo—what, where? What was she doing? Did she dress properly? Did she carry an umbrella? What if it showered?!” Michael shook Saint as he held her by her shoulders.

“Dress? Umbrella? Showered?” She took Michael’s hands off her with her own hands. “Doubt it. She had her unkempt hair as usual and her old white outfit. We met at one of those places. You know? Where she sells people to other vampires?”

Michael sighed. While he didn’t approve of that practice, he really didn’t have the position to say anything to the topic. From what he could recall however, that wasn’t always the case. “I’m going to have to speak with the Mistress. Please excuse me.”

“She’s right behind you.”

Michael turned around to see his Mistress, White Lotus, standing in front of him. She was as pale and thin as ever, her white clothes even accentuating those features more.

“Mistress! You went out last night?”

“So, what?” His Mistress was apparently in a bad mood. “And what are you doing here with… her?”

“I’m training here to ensure your safety! I should be by your side every time! If something happened to the Mistress…” Michael exaggeratedly waved his hands around. “What misery, the Mistress wouldn’t even trust me to go with her! What should I do from now on, a butler—nay, a vagrant no one would trust?!”

“Don’t get overly dramatic the first thing in the morning… anyway, I thought I dismissed that woman some months ago. She shouldn’t be here,” the Mistress said, giving the nun a glare.

The Saint seemed to only shrug at this exchange.

“That can’t be right, she’s been teaching me various things.” Michael tilted his head quizzically. “Why would the Mistress dismiss Saint?”

“Why…? It’s because you get along with her too much.” After the first word, the rest seemed to be a whisper to herself and his Mistress looked away as she seemed to answer.

“Why, I would even say that we’re good friends now!” Michael nodded to himself, arms crossed. His eyes were closed, so he failed to see what his Mistress’ reaction was. “Tell her, Saint! I could even say that I can use very good magic now because of her.”

The Saint gave a very smug smile. “Oh, we sure do.” She wrapped an arm around the butler’s shoulder. “A lot.”

Michael was surprised by the sudden skinship from his mentor, but he wasn’t going to complain. He opened an eye to see his Mistress’ reaction with his hope that finally she’d praise him for once. Instead, his Mistress was boiling with anger.

“W-What have you been doing with her?!”

“W-Wha… why are you mad, Mistress?”

“I was only joking.” The Saint released the butler. “What, you thought we were really like that?”

“A...Ah, so that’s how it is…”

“So… S-Saint, I think I should run?” Michael finally understood the situation. Learning the Heavenly Sacrament magic had made him feel elated with power, but that already passed. If anything, his survival instincts were telling him to run as far away as possible.

“A good time as any, yes.”

“In that case, farewell.” Michael started running opposite the direction of his Mistress.

“Get back in here!” the Mistress shouted, running after the butler.

“Kids these days.” The Saint shook her head as she watched the two go.

“It was a misunderstanding!” Michael shouted, dodging obstacles on his way. At this point, the various obstacles—furniture around the house—didn’t even slow him a bit, nor did he break any valuables as he ran away.

It seemed like the Mistress tried to speak, but she hit a piece of furniture and fell over. She wasn’t exactly used to dealing with a room crowded with furniture and decorations.

As quickly as he ran, Michael immediately appeared beside his Mistress when he heard her hit the furniture. He assessed her status and noticed that her leg seemed to be hurt. He took out his handkerchief and immediately started treating her without a word.

“Mistress, please hold on to me. I’ll carry you to the sofa so that I can treat this wound more efficiently,” he said as he put an arm behind her back, and another behind her legs, putting in extra effort to not touch the wounded area.

The Mistress seemed to hide her face in his chest. “Why…? Why would you run from me… idiot.”

“Well, you shouldn’t leave me here when you go outside, Mistress. How can I sleep calmly now that I know you go out at nights alone?” he replied as he finished wrapping up the wound. He smiled towards her and continued, “Who would treat your wounds if you stub your toe in those events?”

“Hmph, it would get better in no time.” The Mistress pouted. “I don’t want those brutes ogling at my servant.”

“What does that even mean?” Michael sighed.

White Lotus seemed to be crazily possessive of her things, a trait which was sometimes endearing but also hard to deal with. The latter being the one Michael was experiencing now.

“It means what it means.”

“But I belong to the Mistress’ side, they can look all they want. That’s the only thing they can do!” Michael tried to reason out with her. He decided not to back down when it came to her safety, even if they would have to quarrel about it.

“B-But… I don’t like it when they eye you.”

“Then their eyes shall be forfeit, if you wish for it.”

“They are my potential customers though…”

“Then just one eye.” Michael pouted. He was tired of damaging wooden furniture. There was an itch that needed to be scratched, and he felt like it was this. He could recall a battle in an event like the auction Saint described, once.

“All you have to do is just look at me.”

“As you wish, Mistress.” Michael stood up and bowed towards White Lotus.

“Really?”

Michael smiled towards her.

“Really.”

His Mistress wrapped her arms around Michael slowly.

“Never… leave my side.”

“There, there… you know I wouldn’t.”

Michael pushed her towards him with his arm and started stroking her hair with his other hand.

“I suppose this is a girl you found alive in there?”

Witness DKD asked Aramus, looking at him carrying an unconscious Aozora. The two were on top of a building in Tokyo. Normally, they’d simply take to the streets, but with a body in hand, DKD found it fitting to open the portal for them here.

“One part of my lost family, yes.”

Shifting Aozora into a more comfortable position for him to carry, Aramus nonetheless had that same satisfied smile on his face.

“A part of your lost family? Really? She was here of all places?”

“Explains why she disappeared off the map and Akihiko couldn’t find her. That’s all in the past now. I’ll be sure to question her about the situation when she wakes up.”

“Where will she be staying?”

“I’ll find a way. Suffice it to say I’m not going to let her stray too far away from me.”

“We still have a mission in England. I think it is high time we go, in fact… I have bad news.”

“What is it?”

If DKD deemed it bad, it would definitely be something he wouldn’t like.

“Talks of dethroning your Queen, basically. Don’t know how, but plans seem to be underway. England is facing stressful hours as we speak.”

The effect was instantaneous on Aramus and he bristled with restrained anger.

“Then I must return to England—prevent the plot from ever occurring. I will see to those who intend to commit high treason. This insurrection will not go unpunished.”

“And that’s why we should finish our work fast. After that, I intend to confront Queen Victoria. You can get on with personal business after that.”

“Understood, we should make haste. Before you do however, I’d like to ask if the worm in that Boundary said anything to you.”

“The worm in the Boundary? I remember seeing many, and they couldn’t talk.”

“That girl. She mentioned a †˜Mother Miriam’ to me and something about her scheming with many others. We’ll have to look into that as it seems like a precursor.”

“Hmm… I see, that is grave. Whatever she plots, we must stop it… I cannot imagine the length of distortion if she is doing this with many others. Unfortunately, the girl simply appeared crestfallen to me after I announced that I was from the Space Police.”

“Perhaps the connection to my sister prompted her to be a little more loose-lipped. She seemed like a former student of the Eastern Academy as well. In any case, I’d advise a little more caution when dealing with this matter. Teacher’s intuition.”

“You suspect that we shouldn’t rush in taking down their Boundaries?”

“They might have a more elaborate scheme in place. If a student like her could set up a Boundary, what’s not to say the same for a few dozen or a hundred more. A huge influx of Boundaries operating at the same time and only us to handle them. It might be a plot against the Space Police itself instead of mere forbidden research. Only one assumption of course.”

“I will keep it in mind when I make my report to the Administrator.”

Aramus looked up at a very surreal world. The skies were half-dark and half-bright. One side of the world was completely dead, and the other side was very lively. He could see thunder and lightning rumbling on the other side, and a peaceful, silent side where he and Amelia were.

Before them were many strange round, white objects that seemed to fill the lands that they had come across. The schoolgirl they followed for so long was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell are these?” Aramus said as he stared at the round objects.

“That will be your assignment to find out, DAD,” Amelia said, shrugging. “I shall go warn the creator of this Boundary—or whoever seems to own it—like a proper gentlelady.”

“Understood, DKD,” Aramus replied with a nod of his head. He watched as his senior entered a portal made with the Astral Venture Supreme spell and left.

(Fists about to go down: http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=ox5v-CimtBw&p=n)

Aramus looked down at the strange objects before him. Slipping on his gauntlets, he paced over to one nearby him as the spell Aural Vision activated. The spell allowed him to see a faint purple aura surrounding them. It didn’t flicker as well meaning that the object was crafted from Creo or Rego Imaginem. Overall, it looked like a big white sphere. He placed a palm onto it, sending a faint amount of mana into the object to try and identify it, the transfer process over in a few seconds.

Immediately, he realized that it was not meant to be. He could see the Aurum and Imaginem mana not getting along—for reasons unknown—it caused some form of friction. He looked down at the object, disregarding the aura, and heard an audible crack. It seemed to continue for a moment before a loud cracking noise was heard, and the entire surface of the round object broke. It was followed by an ear-piercing hiss—strange, black beetle-like creatures faced him from inside what appeared to be an egg.

He spotted five of such creatures inside this “egg,” and a bloodied girl seemed to lie between the creatures. He had just seen her enter this Realm moments ago. The creatures all had bloody mouths too.

It was too late for the Magister to realize that there were very, very thin threads of mana connecting all of the other eggs. A mass of cracking noises was heard, and Aramus knew that he was in a world of trouble now, almost literally.

“This is going to be more troublesome than I thought,” Aramus said as he grimaced.

A swirling ball flared up around his fist and he punched into the mass of black beetles right before him. Shrill screeching noises drowned out the faint thump of his spell as it detonated, insect chitin and gore spinning away from him in a shower of fluid.

Aramus flared his mana output, saturating the surrounding area with magic particles. They sparked in the air like electrostatic as the beetles swarmed towards him. Hard pressed to keep track of so many at once, the Magister deftly weaved between gnashing jaws and slashing talons, returning them with blows of his own. It was oddly satisfying to hear the crunch of exoskeleton breaking under his fists.

Countless of the creatures surrounded him in no time when his dash ended. With a hiss the beetles flew up towards him, and it was impossible to get out of the swarm as every direction was locked. Aramus smashed his gauntlets together fist to fist with a resonating clang, and a blast of air blew away the beetles around him, sending many tumbling end over end from the force of the wind. The wind curled around him, becoming another shield of his as he faced the swarm.

Aramus clenched a fist as it charged with mana, a pitch black orb revealing itself once he was done. The spell he learned when he defeated himself in the Infernal Realm’s trial was now active.

The orb lashed out with winds stronger than even his tornado, feeding off some of the wind from it. It rose above him and the swarm as Aramus chanted, the sphere seemingly sucking in the light as it coalesced. Aramus could feel a multitude of feelings in his chest as the spell gained in strength, all of them unpleasant.

“Unseemly pests feeding off the flesh of innocents, I pity both whoever created you and those unfortunate enough to be consumed. That whatever I do will ruin the plans your creator had for you. Only the mind of a madman could conjure up such horrors, a heart so black to turn it into reality. So be it, you who were born in darkness will also end in the black of night. Heart’s Darkness!”

As he announced it’s name, the sphere pulsed with energy like a heartbeat. More and more beetles were sucked into its pull even as tried to fly away in vain. They flew up in streams, and all he could see when he looked up were insects being sucked in. Aramus closed his eyes, a smile of satisfaction on his face as he basked in the chorus of their demise.

As his spell ended, Aramus noted noises of something shattering. He looked up, finding cracks in the sky. The demolition of the Realm had began. His senior had made her move. The skies turned violent as a result, storms raging everywhere now.

He looked to the very left, a magical portal open. There was nothing but black from what he could see—a deep abyss.

“What now?” He muttered irritably before strolling over to it, wiping some of the ichor on him away with Aquam.

DKD had the area under control and he had dealt with the insects. Someone had laid out an invitation for him. It would be rude of him to refuse. Once he was clear of any imperfections in his suit, Aramus stepped in.







When Aramus entered the portal inside the Boundary. He found a black world where many cracks created by imperfections were apparent. Many windows were open due to said cracks, and it seemed like he entered through one of such pathways. What lay a long way ahead of him was a spot thought to be the heart of the creator’s domain.

On a purple floor, someone could be seen sitting. The posture made him think the person was in despair.

Aramus approached closer, stopping a few meters away from the figure. A girl—her long red hair braided into twin tails—sat on the ground. He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow as he looked around the room.

“You the owner?”

“What…?” The girl turned an eye only at his suit and looked back down. “You’re also here to tell me the same thing?”

“I believe the other person did enough talking for both of us regarding that.” Aramus mentally palmed his face. Why was the owner of this Boundary so young?

“Yeah. I know… whatever, I’ll die with my friend here. Hehehehe… so you can go now.”

“No remorse for involving others?” Aramus said as he leaned on a foot.

“Remorse? Heh, they deserved it.”

Aramus looked up as he took his step forward. At the very edge of the space was a long, purple wall. Someone seemed to be pinned on it with steel cuffs.

His eyes widened in shock, for he found someone he had been searching for for some time.

His ex-student.

His sister.

Aozora.

“What’ve you done to her!?”

Immediately Aramus strode over to her, ignoring the girl on the ground. An invisible barrier impeded his progress before he could reach her. He thudded on it with his gauntlets, but it wouldn’t break.

“Just entertaining her in my house. Nothing big.” The girl got up, giving an eerie laugh. “You’re not taking her from me.”

A crunching sound was heard, and the girl realized it was coming from her cheek as Aramus’s metal gauntlet flowed into her face. She staggered back from the force of the blow and he glared, looking extremely cross with her.

“You a student from the Academy too?”

“What about it?”

The girl palmed her cheek as she spoke. Aramus looked down to find roots climbing up to his legs to ensnare him.

“As a Magister of the Eastern Academy, I have a duty to ensure my students exercise sufficient discipline in their practice of Magic. Your failure to do so means some disciplinary action is in order.”

Summoning Alptraum, the roots were sliced away with a single cut and Aramus stepped away unharmed.

“Your name. I don’t want to keep calling a former student of mine †˜girl.’”

She ignored the words of the Magister and placed a palm on the ground, an Ent crawling out of the floor with a growl, standing between the Magister and the girl.

“Outta the way, trash,” Aramus muttered before sending Alptraum into an upswing. The blade carved through the Ent without any resistance and the feathers ruffled, sending a blast of cutting wind into the body. All that remained after the Ent was shredded were little slivers of wood.

With a wave of her hand, Aramus heard the buzzing noises of the beetle-like creatures again. A single swing from the Magister and they were all cut into many small pieces.

“I guess this is it for me,” she said, looking at the sword pointed at her, only making a wry smile.

“Any last words, student?” Aramus said as he looked down at her.

“Take care of her, but I am not the last of my kind.” She made a twisted smile. “Mother Mariam’s plot had only just began.”

“The last of your kind, elaborate.”

“There’s more. More than you can imagine.”

“If you can bleed, you can die. A fast death is too good for you.”

Aramus pulled Alptraum back, altering his angle and cutting away her legs at the knees. His student fell over as blood gushed out. With a few more deft cuts, she was flayed open and her limbs ceased to exist. Ignem cauterized the wounds for him, ensuring she wouldn’t bleed out and Aramus held her up by the hair, whispering into her ear.

“Crawl on the ground like the worm you are.”

He ignored her, hurrying over to Aozora’s side and breaking the cuffs that held her. The barrier seemed to fall with its caster. Aozora flopped down into his waiting arms and Aramus hefted her over his shoulder. He spared the “worm” one last glance before he made his exit, walking back the way he came.

Witness DKD and DAD were in an area known as Shibuya in Tokyo.

The pair of Witnesses were in search of the crack in the dimension. In other words, a Boundary—a world that lay beyond the reach of ordinary means in the material world. The word “crack” was often the word used to describe the Boundaries by the users of the monocles. The monocles granted to the members of the Space Police Organization allowed the wearers to see the Boundaries directly to identify them. Normally, the members were told to memorize all the approved Boundaries, as it would be crucial to identify an illegal Boundary creation.

Usually, illegal Boundaries were often considered the reason for the term “spirited away” to be coined by the mundanes. Unauthorized Boundaries often lacked the seals granted to their members, so innocent and unaffiliated people could enter without intent, and of course, accidentally. Other times, there would be conditions intentionally made for the Boundaries to suck in unsuspecting travelers. Thus, it was often thought that illegal Boundary creators would make their Boundaries to lure in the innocents for reasons not considered good.

“How distasteful of them to set up a Boundary here.” A frown marred Aramus’ face as he looked around, the area swarming with pedestrians walking to and fro.

“No sign of the Boundary so far, I assume?” DKD questioned. “This really is a crowded area, so the person must be looking to invite others…”

“Nothing so far. Let’s keep looking, I want to introduce whoever’s responsible to my fist, see how they like it,” Aramus grumbled.

“You must calm yourself,” DKD advised. “Place your justice at bay.”

“I’m calm, at least until I get to shoot something,” Aramus said as he took a deep breath.

“That’s the thing about you. You need to be calm all the way, and not until the trigger to go forth on your roller coaster of Aurum.”

“Ok. I’ll try, but you know how much I hate involving innocents, especially after… that.”

“They say that you lose at least half of your effectiveness if you aren’t calm.”

Witness DKD gestured DAD to enter a café with her.

“Let us relax a little,” she suggested. “Coffee for us both.” She ordered before Aramus could even raise his voice to make his own order to the waitress.

“Understood.” The waitress accepted the order, gave a bow, and walked away after noting down their order.

“Mmm. It’s a bad habit of mine to get all heated up,” Aramus admitted. “It wasn’t so bad with the snake that one time, but when there’s people involved…”

“We’ve been through so many other cases. I wish you’d grow up a little by now. People will always be involved, that is simply how this world works, DAD.”

The waitress brought for them both two cups of coffee as DKD spoke.

Aramus wordlessly plopped in numerous cubes of sugar to sweeten the black liquid, heaving a sigh.

“This may sound cruel, but we’ll use the people as bait.”

“Is it absolutely necessary?” Aramus’ hands curled up into fists as he tried to control his anger.

“If you can’t see it, then that means the entrance reveals itself to potential targets. It must be designed to be elusive.”

“Sacrifice a few so that the rest may live,” Aramus muttered. No matter how much he disliked it, one couldn’t save everyone. Even worse when those few had nothing to do with this.

DKD seemed to finish her coffee and stood up. “...I think we found one already. Let’s go.”

“Aye.” His own coffee had been a little too hot, but Aramus poured the liquid down his throat and followed after DKD.

DKD and DAD followed a girl who apparently walked normally, but from further inspection, she seemed a little unfocused.

“She is possessed,” DKD whispered to DAD. “At least I believe she is.”

“Continued observation will confirm it.”

For some time the pair of Witnesses followed the schoolgirl wearing a sailor uniform. It was a very traditional uniform in the community of Japanese. The girl walked slowly, as if she had no destination in mind. She turned to an alleyway and entered. Witness DKD and DAD followed, but she was gone. There was nothing but a dead end.

“Well, there we have it.” Aramus took the monocle in one hand and wiped it with a cloth before placing it over his eye. Aramus saw spreads of magic running all around the air.

“Is it present?”

“It’s here alright.”

“Let’s commence the mission.”

When Christopher, Aramus, and Akihiko entered the fancy restaurant, they sat down and relaxed. Christopher was very happy to have a rich person of Japan in the group. With Aramus and Akihiko—he could eat anywhere in the world in peace. That was how his perfect plan was supposed to be, until a little something stood in his way.

“So how is it that you got here?!” the Archmage snapped, feeling his glorious plan foiled.

“Oh? †˜Tis not the rule of the family to go where good food lies?”

A person wearing similar—and seemingly better—swallowtail tuxedo compared to Aramus sat around the table with the three, making a casual and calm smile at Aramus’ Master. This was Witness DKD, Witness DAD’s senior in the Organization he worked with.

“She’s got you there, Master.”

“Got us all good, lad.”

“Well,” DKD began. “According to the coordinates, I figured that you guys would be coming here.”

“Sorry about this Akihiko. Now you’ve got one more to feed.” Aramus gestured to his student in apology.

“I can pay for myself thank you; that’s not really the problem here.”

“Me too?” Chris grinned.

“Hoho, what do I gain next time?” DKD grinned too.

Witness DKD and Christopher laughed at their little joke.

“So what brings you here?” the Archmage questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Got some work,” the Witness replied curtly. “You’ll have to make some time,” DKD added, facing Aramus.

“What’ll it be this time? It’s not the camel again right? Please say it’s not,” Aramus pleaded.

“How do you go on a mission without a camel? That’s the norm, junior.”

Aramus’ mouth flapped open and closed as he tried to wrap his head around the idea.

“Does that mean I’ll have to find my own camel?”

“One camel is good enough.”

“Oh no. That means it’s here. Somewhere. You brought it here.”

Witness DKD’s lips stretched wide.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Aramus buried his face in his hands, muttering under his breath about deserts and flying.

“Turns out someone made a Boundary in Tokyo somewhere without permission,” Amelia stated. “There are traces in the area called Shibuya. They say some people randomly wander into it.”

“That’s one of the busiest places in Tokyo. We need to get to it ASAP,” Aramus said. “Is this a solo assignment?”

“Since when were you big enough for solo?” Witness DKD said with a “hoho” laugh. “Or do my ears betray me?”

“Maybe this could be it. There are a couple of spells I’ve been testing lately and though they’re still a bit volatile due to being incomplete, I think they might be able to get the job done. Just wanted to be sure if there was going to be any collateral or not.”

“It’s a Boundary. Collateral damages don’t exist in a Boundary that is illegal. Just break whatever the hell you want.”

Aramus made a smile, one that displayed profound happiness at the destruction he could unleash.

“So what the hell is going on?” Akihiko asked, who was the only one completely out of the loop.

“Just something we need to take care of quickly, potentially life-threatening as she mentioned. Basically, just sweeping up the endless filth of the Magic World. It’s where I ended up after leaving the Academy.”

“So a new job, huh? What’s the profession called?” Akihiko asked.

“The Space Police,” Christopher lazily said. DKD almost wanted to cull his head for it.

“May I ask for your name?” DKD inquired, and Akihiko seemed to give a nasty glare.

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Is this kid always like this?” DKD asked the Magister.

“Sometimes. He’ll be accompanying me on my travels as my trusty sidekick,” Aramus replied to DKD before turning to Akihiko. “She’s another one of my mentors, but is a little touchy about the name issue. Privacy,” he said in a softer tone with a wink.

“Privacy? Really now…?” Akihiko seemed to be already starting to think about the Space Police now that Christopher leaked the name.

“I will cut you to pieces if you raise that thought any further,” DKD said with a sweet smile.

Akihiko seemed to completely give up after seeing her face.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you if that happens, Akihiko. It’s the rules, make sure you don’t tell anyone,” Aramus said with a shushing motion. “In the worst case, I might be the one to remove your head since it’s my fault… but let’s not go there!”

“So Shibuya… are you sure you guys should be eating here instead of going? It’s gonna take at least about two hours to travel by train,” Akihiko replied.

“Can’t work on an empty stomach. That applies to all three of us seated here,” Aramus declared.

“These two aren’t affected by distance, anyway,” Chris said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “They just use the Void. Hours? What hours?”


“Huh? Void?”

“Master, please. Don’t put Akihiko in any more danger!” Aramus pleaded. “You’ll learn eventually, I don’t believe it’s been covered in class yet.”

“What? Can’t a man complain? I’m here stuck on my sorry arse with all these rules here,” the Archmage threw a tantrum. “You should’ve seen how awesome it was all those years ago—so much freedom of living!”

“Hey, at least you can walk,” DKD mockingly said. “Not so bad, eh?”

“Years ago, I ate rats on the street,” Aramus said with an extremely sad face.

“Oh yeah?! My foot’s right here and I’m gonna dare enter that portal with it!” the Master said with a mighty roar.

“Hoho. You’d challenge me?” The Witness raised her eyes at these courageous words.

“A man never backs down, fair lady.”

Just like that, Chris held a loaf of bread in his mouth while DKD held a cup of tea. The pair would appear to be completely civilized if not for throwing fists and slicing apart the entire restaurant while having breakfast.

“What’s wrong? You don’t seem as energetic as before.”

“Just taking a bite, for God’s sake!”

With the resounding cries of steel going on beside them, Akihiko simply gave a dazed look at the companions of Aramus.

“Are you fine hanging around with these… people?”

“I might not look it but I’m one of them,” Aramus said as he raised his own pair of utensils. “Unlike them, I’d prefer to finish my food first and then fight.”

Akihiko gave Aramus the kind of look one would get when they lacked common sense. Like when one would not be able to tell the difference between apple and orange, it was a mental issue to that degree to him.

Chris tossed his loaf to the air and DKD her saucer and the teacup. The Archmage’s gauntlets clashed wildly against Amelia’s sword repeatedly. It almost seemed as though they fought at the speed of light.

Amelia caught the bread with her mouth and Chris the cup of saucer—and the teacup atop it—before a resounding clash was heard once more.

“Dammit, this cup is empty,” Chris complained while DKD devoured the last of the bread and showed a grin.

“Master,” Aramus raised the teapot in one hand, the exact number of sugar cubes Chris liked grasped between his fingers as he prepared to refill the cup. One could easily tell what the bread and butter just in front of the Magister was for when looking at this scene.

Christopher sent the teacup flying at Aramus.

“I leave that to †˜ya, lad!”

“Heh, cheating, are we?!” DKD spat.

Chris winked. “Perks of having an apprentice.”

“Both of ours!”

The two danced and the songs of steel once more reverberated across the halls of the restaurant, which was unsurprisingly desolate now thanks to a very strange and dangerous duo.

Aramus caught the cup, spinning it on an axis as he refilled it with tea in one fluid motion before sending it back to his Master. The cup sailed gracefully through the air, a trio of sugar cubes dropping into it mid-flight. Nary a drop spilled as Aramus had added just that little bit of spin to ensure the beverage’s safety.

A bread roll was cut open next, steaming hot once split. Aramus wielded the butter knife like a surgeon, slicing cleanly and spreading the butter evenly across the interior. He lobbed the bread at DKD who promptly snatched it out of the air.

The Magister’s Master caught the teacup with the sugar cubes all loaded, while alternating with DKD who seemed to have taken a bite of her bread.

Just before Christopher took a sip of the tea, the edge of the sword of the Witness slipped into the hold of his very cup, and she stole it with ease. Her savage grin was plastered all over her face.

Chris gave his trademark expression of amusement while DKD’s grin held a slight look of pain now. He stepped on DKD’s foot just as he lost his cup—playing just as dirty as her—and snatched the bread out of her hand. A loud crunch was heard when the Archmage bit on the bread, followed by a slurping noise from the girl who seemed to be around Elizabeth’s age as the sword and gauntlet collided with one another.

In the end, it was a draw.

“Now that we’ve established that you guys are equal, let's get back to eating,” Aramus muttered as he munched on his own bread roll, jam leaking out as it was filled to the brim.

“Alright, we take off after we eat,” DKD stated, sitting down as if it was completely normal to spar with food.

“Got it. I’ll take care of the kid I guess,” Chris casually said.

Neither of these people except Akihiko seemed to feel pity for the people that were driven out from the restaurant thanks to the antics of some of the eccentric individuals the group contained. Even the restaurant’s manager and staff members had taken off some time ago.

“Thank you, Master. Akihiko, take this chance to learn from my teacher. If anything, it’ll be… interesting,” Aramus said with a strange expression.

“And by interesting you mean?” Akihiko asked, not very enlightened or excited.

“You’ll see. It will be an enlightening experience,” Aramus said as he reminisced about the “fun” times he and Christopher had together.

“Uh huh…”

Aramus got to the cafeteria with Akihiko, and it seemed like there were no one in there, much less any food. They found some tables and chairs, and Christopher was slumped over one of the tables. Aramus could tell that he was disappointed.

“No luck I take it?” Aramus asked as he pulled open two seats for Akihiko and himself.

As the two sat down it seemed like his Master grumbled. Said grumbling could only get louder.

“There’s… there’s no food here!” Chris finally blew up. “What is this travesty?!”

“Akihiko, where do you usually eat?” Aramus asked his former student.

“In my room? Why?”

“I mean, where do you get your food? Do you order it in?” Aramus clarified.

“My men bring it for me. Doesn’t matter from where.”

“You think they could get some good Indian food here in a jiffy? Extra curry and naan.”

“The breakfast hour only passed and they return around lunch time… doubt they can get that any time soon.”

“Master, all hope is lost. We will have to find another form of sustenance unless I look in the kitchen, but I doubt anything is there.”

“Why are you guys panicking over food like that…? You can just buy something outside this damn Realm, right?”

“All hope… all our hopes!” Chris seemed to repeat after his disciple. “Wait, we could?”

Aramus raised a finger in thought. “The food in Tokyo is actually pretty good. I’m not sure if you’d like it as much as Indian cuisine, but it’s worth a shot. Just… none of the raw stuff.”

“That’s not the problem kid, it’s the cost,” the Archmage said. “They charge a fortune for any good stuff.”


“I guess we’ll have to make do with some…” Aramus shivered before he spoke again, “Convenience store rice balls.”

Akihiko looked like he met some poverty-stricken people on the streets. “Let’s just go. I can treat you old men I guess.”

“Now you’re making me look bad, but I can’t argue. Master?”

“What are you waiting for?” Chris was already at the corner of the cafeteria standing before the exit. He gestured towards the exit. “Not coming?”

Aramus shook his head at his Master’s antics, following after him alongside Akihiko.

“Is your Master always like that?”

“Pretty much,” Aramus said with a snort. “Though there are times when he does get serious about other things, but food is pretty important!”

Akihiko seemed to sigh again. “So, what did you guys come here for?”

“One part was to check up on the current status of the Eastern Magic Academy given its… losses in the past year. Another, more personal objective of mine was to find my protege. You might’ve remembered him, the young boy who doubled as my class assistant. That and Aozora,” Aramus said as he straightened his collar.

“You’re looking for Aozora… well, they’re all gone now unfortunately. I can’t tell where the heck she went to, though. She had no home either.”

“I’ll find her. I have to find her,” Aramus replied with a little more force than necessary. “Wherever she may be.”

“Why? What did she do? I do remember that you’re one of Royal Council’s Enforcers.”

“Oh no, none of that. It’s complicated, but after some painful revelations, I found out we’re blood related.”

“B...B-Blood-related, with… with Aozora?!” It seemed like Akihiko was finally sober now after hearing these words.

Aramus simply took out his new identification card and showed it to him.

“What the hell?! I thought she had no family. Hell, she even told me herself.”

“Surprise, surprise. I thought the same thing about myself.” Aramus faked a †˜wow’ motion with his hands before turning serious. “But now that the truth is out, the only recourse is to find her.”

“I doubt she could be found though.”

“It might not be easy, but I believe that she can be found. Is that not why you came looking for her as well?” Aramus said as he clapped Akihiko lightly on the shoulder.

“Not really, she just said that it was time for her to go. I was left behind, that was it.”


“As her brother, I can’t approve of a man who gives up before he even tries. If you’re left behind then go after her. Better than rotting in this shell of a school.” He gave Akihiko’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“But unlike every other time, she didn’t ask me to go with her. It wasn’t… like usual. We were always together and then…” The young scholar sighed. “I don’t even know anymore. My head’s a mess.”

“Then don’t use it. Go with your heart, if it tells you to chase after her then do it. Or do you not have confidence in yourself?”

“I don’t, okay? I lost a whole bunch of Mage’s Duels. The world doesn’t work the way we want it to… many of us rich kids might look like we have the life—we don’t. Talent is the only important thing I’d want, and I wasn’t born with it. How could I have confidence?”

“Then believe in me. I believe in you—you can do it. You survived the fight with Sagittarius while countless others did not. That alone counts for something. So fight, grit your teeth and struggle against the unfairness of the world until you meet her again. I’ll have your back the whole way,” Aramus said as he looked over to his Master. “Just like someone did with me.”

Of course, the Master couldn’t hear any of this conversation as he was at least fifteen meters ahead as they exited the building, or could he?

“You will…? But I’m a worthless guy. There are so many better mages to recruit as a student. I’d rather pursue her alone.”

“Those are words I’ve said to myself many times before. Take it from me, you’ll never get much accomplished alone. That… and you haven’t committed mass genocide,” Aramus said with a halting tone. “So I think you qualify.”

“What does genocide have to do with anything? Anyway, I guess I’ll hang around. Gonna guess someone needs to feed you two anyway.”


“That’s the spirit,” Aramus said cheerfully, smacking Akihiko on the back before hollering to his own Master up ahead. “Master, we’ll have someone who can feed us throughout our travels!”

“Oh, awesome!” Chris exclaimed casually. “Good to have you aboard, son.”

“You guys really aren’t very wealthy, are you?” Akihiko said, trying to smile but he couldn’t.

“We’ll always seem poor compared to you,” Aramus said with a dour expression.

“Well at least in Japan anyway. Can’t help you much outside the country. Our currency is a bit of a rogue outside the borders as you know it.”

“I think we can handle ourselves outside of Japan.”

“Gotcha… I got myself into something crazy, didn’t I?”

“You don’t know the half of it, we’ll be conducting your training… live. But that’s for another day. Now you can tell me what you like about Aozora,” Aramus said as he leaned in with a grin.

The three started to exit the Realm of the Eastern Magic Academy and were on the road.

“W-What? I… I don’t really know how to answer that.”

“Why not? There should be at least something, like how you find yourself happy around her or what not.”

“I don’t really know. She seemed pretty cool at first. Doesn’t talk much, sometimes gives me weird stares when I’m talking to other guys, and seemed to be like me somehow… you know, the loneliness thing. We had one other similarity too, I guess.”

“Hoh. Sounds like you guys have a lot in common, what is it? Tell me the juicy details.”

Akihiko made a dark face. “We both lost someone to a Descendant.”

“Then you might as well be family,” Aramus answered with a hint of bitterness.

“Seems like you haven’t had great luck with those blokes either.”

“Out of all the Descendants, there are only two I haven’t met or crossed blades with yet. Two.”

“Ain’t that nice?”

“Well, I’m somehow still breathing and in one piece. Life goes on.”

“You okay, son?” Christopher, one of the nine remaining Archmages asked his disciple. “You haven’t been looking well these past few days.”

“Haven’t been sleeping too well these few days,” Aramus replied as he put a hand to his head. “I’m too old for bad dreams.”

“What d’ya see? Vampires or summat? I hope not!”

“The usual horrors associated with genocide. Vampires would be preferable to that.”

“Well, let’s hope that you won’t feel that way here.”

The Archmage looked up to a pristine structure that stood before the pair of master and student. The Eastern Magic Academy was still clean and sparkling as ever.

It was as though the Magister had been here simply yesterday. It was nostalgic. He could see the dormitories and the forest behind the houses. He remembered the end of Margaret Alicia that took place just before the entrance to the Academy’s main building.

“It’s good to be back,” he said with a hint of a smile. Despite all that had happened, Aramus still had many fond memories of the Academy and it was a breath of fresh air to return amidst his training and new “profession.”

“I’m just gonna go say hello to whoever is running this thing here… if they are at all. Why don’t you go check up on whoever that you need to meet here? †˜Ya know, your sister or the child you were in charge of? Doubt the Academy actually functions now. Try the dorms.”

“I suppose this is all we can do given the state of affairs. I hope Almond has been eating well, the lad is still growing.”

“Bet you have nothing to feed?” Chris laughed. “I kid. You should be loaded now thanks to your new job.”

“Hopefully the cafeterias standards haven’t changed. I always was envious of the rich kids who could eat and drink as much as they wanted.”

“Oh… oh yeah! They boasted all kinds of international food. Why didn’t I think of this?”

“Time for that again?” Aramus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s going to be party time, lad!” Chris cleared his throat. “After business. Let’s get the rough stuff done. We’ll meet up in the cafeteria in… say an hour?”

“Hopefully that’s enough time to locate Almond… and my sister. If I’m late, go on ahead. You know I’ll catch up.”

“Got it.”

The Magister took one long glance at the face of the Academy. The once bustling pavements were still clean as always, but he found no scholars walking by like he would about a year ago when the Headmistress was still alive. He knew it wouldn’t go on for long even then. When he met Virgo, he found the same face as the Headmistress, and could connect the facts in his mind by himself. The facts were a little hard to take in, of course. It was no surprise when the Headmistress turned up dead.

Christopher’s guess was likely true—he thought, as he walked over to the dormitories.

There were two separate buildings. One was for the teachers while the other was for the students.

The Magister approached the building to the left that was closer to the main building and strolled inside. The caretaker of the dormitory was an old man who gave the ex-teacher a slight bow of acknowledgement, and handed him a key he left behind in the past.

As he walked past the wooden floors, he inspected the hallways. There was no one. He met no past work colleagues. It seemed like the dormitories were not often used anymore.

Some moments later, he finally opened the door. Many thoughts raced in his mind, but something set an alarm off. If the door to his room was locked tight—how could he expect Almond inside?

The Magister was not wrong—the room inside was empty. Everything was in neat order, which was likely Almond’s doing, as Aramus himself was bad at being organized. There were some books the teacher gave him a long time ago, but were now unused. He inspected the small belongings of Almond and they were all inside the room indeed, now covered in dust.

A long sigh filled the quiet room as Aramus let his disappointment leak out. It had been jarring enough for the boy to lose his mother figure, but for him to be left alone for a year, the effects might’ve been irreversible on the poor lad. The room had been untouched for a long time, judging from the layer of dust, but he looked over Almond’s belongings anyway. Perhaps the young one had left a note.

There were the standard knick knacks of young children and he flipped open a dusty notebook which he had given to Almond for his studies. As he did, a letter fell onto the floor and Aramus picked it up with a frown.

Unfolding the letter and confirming that it was indeed in Almond’s handwriting, Aramus read the final message to him from his protege. The letter was more well-written than one would expect from a boy of Almond’s age, and he expressed his gratitude for whatever was taught, albeit incomplete as Aramus had to leave. It still contained some of the childish innocence that Aramus remembered as well but as he reached the end, there was something that made him frown.

“I’m going back.”

The words were written in an extremely tiny font, but it raised questions. The Headmistress had informed him that Almond had been picked up as a war orphan after the Second Great War, so what did he mean by that? Aramus folded the letter and placed it within his suit. He’d ask whoever remained in the staff room, provided they would give him the light of day.

A quick check over his room revealed nothing else, and Aramus grabbed his precious tea set, the china covered in dust. The tea he’d brew would go well with the remaining Magic Cupcakes he stashed away.

Aramus walked out of the dormitory for the teachers and looked up to the other building to the right of him now. It was farther than the Academy’s main building and was once a place where he could see a line of scholars sparsely walking to the main building for their classes. These images from the past were too contrasting, and it kept bugging him somewhere at the back of the head about the lack of students. When the Magister finally entered the dormitory, it seemed like even the caretaker was gone. He looked around as he walked into the girls side of the house.

He held in his hand a notebook of sorts from the desk from downstairs, which had a list of student scholars’ names and their rooms. Unfortunately, the book had been untouched for some time so he assumed that the caretaker left some time ago.

When he found Aozora Linfield’s room, it seemed to be open. He quirked the doorknob and entered slowly. It wasn’t a surprise that the room was simply empty.

“Gone. I don’t know why I had all these expectations. It’s been a year since all the chaos, of course they’d move out.”

There was a loud thud as he thought aloud, and Aramus walked out of the room and ran over to the source of the sound. He was now on the male side of the dormitory and it seemed like there was someone who fell flat with his face on the floor.

Aramus took a second to admire how one could trip over absolutely nothing before moving to help the man up. He realized that it was Akihiko, a boy he once knew used to be with Aozora Linfield.

“Should watch your step, Akihiko.”

“…Who?” Akihiko seemed to grumble, his face a wreck. He seemed to have overslept, not taken a shower or anything, and reeked of alcohol.

“Old teacher of yours.”

“Ugh… you’re not Aozora? Almost thought… oh, you’re that guy.”

Akihiko held his temples and could barely open his eyes when he got up with Aramus’ help. He seemed to almost trip again but caught himself somehow.

Aramus shifted to support Akihiko, smelling the booze on him. It proved old habits died hard as he had to stifle the urge to chide the student for drinking on a school night.

“So, were you coming to see Aozora? It seems as though the majority of the population has left,” Aramus questioned.

“No, not really… she’s been gone for a long time. I guess I was just seeing things for a bit.”

“You want to get something for that hangover in the cafeteria? I’m paying,” Aramus said as he mused over what he’d been told. That and he couldn’t just leave Akihiko in this state.

“No… I’m fine as I am. By the way, you should go. There’s nothing left here. Nothing.”

His eyes were dead. Whatever hopes and dreams he probably had were gone by now. That was the kind of look Aramus saw in Akihiko.

“So why are you still here?” the Magister asked in response even as he steered them both towards the cafeteria.

“Got no better place to go. Would rather rot here than at home.”

“Yeah, let’s get you sobered up over something warm first. Are there any classes being conducted at all?”

“You don’t need to treat…” Akihiko sighed as he gave up. “No classes, none.”

“Nonsense. A teacher must look out for their charges which... I don’t see happening here,” Aramus said as he looked around. “When did everyone start leaving?”

“Heh, you lost that job a long time ago. Why now…? Everyone left when… I don’t even know anymore.”

“I’ve moved on to better places,” Aramus replied dryly with a roll of his eyes. “It took me some time to get back here as a result.”

Waves rolled lazily with the tide, a yacht sailing slow into view as he watched. The boulevard he was on was buzzing with activity yet it was mostly due to people going about their daily lives. Families out for shopping, office workers heading for their next appointment, tourists on sightseeing trips. Mundanes.

Aramus paid them no bother as he stood there, thinking. But of what?

A tourist came up to him before the answer could come, asking in broken English for help with a photo.

He faked a smile, accepting the smartphone, and the tourist gratefully ran back to his partner where they posed together. Aramus focused the camera on them, framing them with the Statue of Liberty in the background, torch raised proudly into the sky.

“Three, two, one. Smile!” He heard himself say, but the line lacked any of the emotion it was supposed to convey.

The smartphone was returned and he left the pair, turning away from the bay onto the boulevard. He had something to do, but what was it? The answer was at the corner of his mind, but it seemed to fade away like a specter when he turned his attention to it.

A hot dog was thrust into view by gnarled hands and Aramus realized he had absently walked to a food kiosk and bought one. The old vendor smiled as he awaited payment. Bills were exchanged and Aramus bit into the steaming hot dog once he was seated at a nearby bench.

It was tasteless. Not a hint of flavor as he chewed on it, Aramus made a dissatisfied face in response. Perhaps he should’ve added more condiments, but it had already been loaded with toppings. Strange indeed. Aramus set it aside on the bench, deciding not to finish the hot dog. Sometimes a day like this wasn’t so bad, going out on the town all on his lonesome. Maybe next time he’d find a better place to eat.

The area where he sat had less pedestrians, most of them focused on the opposite end of the street. He could see mouths moving as people talked and laughed yet heard nothing. A step away from everyone else, separate from their world. He realized that there were no voices to be heard, the only one so far was his own.

A gust of wind forced him to shield his eyes, noting that it was suddenly turning dark. Looking up to see if it was going to rain, Aramus realized with shock there was a strange vortex above the Statue of Liberty sucking in the air around it. The confusion from the people around him proved that he was not alone, some of them milling around restlessly, others snapping photos with their gadgets.

The vortex screeched and spat forth a rain of fireballs. They came rushing toward him, smashing into the bay and the buildings in explosions of flame and debris. One passed by overhead and landed behind, Aramus feeling it through the tremors in the ground. He got up and summoned mana to try and deflect another. Nothing came and Aramus attempted it again with the same result.

What’s going on? Why can’t I use magic?

Suddenly, the world around him was flooded with noise. Screams and cries of the panicking, blaring car horns, it all added to the mayhem that was happening all around the city. He watched as a family of four was incinerated as a fireball landed on them, turning the area around a molten orange as the extreme heat melted the ground.

Someone slammed into him, knocking him out of his daze and he turned to run along like everyone else. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a meteor flatten the Statue of Liberty as it emerged from the vortex, throwing up a huge dust cloud amidst the destruction. He was knocked off his feet as the shock wave washed over him, landing painfully on the kerb.

When he opened his eyes, the streets around him were ablaze. Inhuman wailing and screaming filled the air, punctuated with rumbling as a constant rain of fireballs cascaded down from the blood-red sky like the tears of a demented god. Aramus got up on unsteady feet and surveyed the devastation.

Are there any survivors? he thought as he began to search around.

Movement caught his eye and he hurriedly ran towards it, ready to help the next person he saw. A young girl, her body trapped under rubble was waving an arm weakly for help.

“Hold on, I’ll get you out of there.” Aramus braced himself against the heavy debris and pushed with all his might, managing to overturn the rubble and it fell away with a heavy thud.

The girl was in a bad state, the majority of her flesh burnt away revealing the muscles underneath and her face was unrecognizable. She seemed to be gasping for air, trying to say something and Aramus let himself be pulled down by her weak grip. He leaned in close to hear her last words as she murmured and wheezed.

“This is all your doing, Aramus.”

With a start he pulled back as he realized the one speaking was Mary, his mother. The voice was laced with venom and her golden eye glimmered from within her ravaged skull as the body turned towards him. A mangled arm pulled itself free from the rubble with a crunch, further destroying the limb as she crawled towards her son.

Voices and moans began to fill the air, whispers of hatred and bloodcurdling screams directed at him. From the wreckage, corpses began to shamble onto the streets. Those with missing limbs pulled themselves with whatever remained. Others still smouldering continued forth as their skin and muscles burnt away and fell to the ground. Nothing seemed to stop them as they moved towards Aramus. He felt fear grip his heart and he looked up to see the vortex pulse with energy, spurring on the legion of the damned below.

“No. No!” he screamed and fled down the boulevard.

Feet pounded against asphalt as he dodged around other corpses who rose from the earth before a sudden crushing pressure on his ankle forced him to trip and sprawl to the ground. Aramus looked down to see a hand rising from a puddle of blood as it continued to prevent him from escaping. He looked in terror as the owner finally showed himself, another familiar face rising from the earth.

Takeru stared back at him with bleached eyeballs, his distorted visage further marred by a cut that ran down its entire length. One side of his face twitched and smiled horrifyingly as he latched another arm onto Aramus.

“Where do you think you’re going, Magister?”

From beyond, there was the sound of liquid flowing. A torrent of water—no, blood crashed onto the street and flooded towards the pair. Aramus struggled against Takeru’s iron grip. The tidal wave of blood swept up everything as it rumbled forward, crushing more buildings and swallowing the corpses. Soon it would be upon him.

“Let me go!” Aramus pleaded and beat frantically against Takeru’s arms as his fellow Magister only smiled, the other half of his face rising in a demented grin. Takeru’s mouth opened and vomited, oily black sludge spilling forth and clinging to Aramus’ body as it slid upwards towards his face.

“Why!?” he wailed and some of it slithered into his mouth, invading his body with its taint. Aramus squirmed as it covered his face. t\The last view he saw was that of the tidal wave bearing down on him as his consciousness went dark.

When he came to, Aramus was stuck. He couldn’t move his body due to some restraints but could shift his head slightly. Something was pulling at his eyelids, preventing him from blinking or closing his eyes, and it was torture. There was an incessantly loud ticking in his head with a random tempo, rapid at times and slow at others. What he knew was that he was lying chest down and there was a lake of blood surrounding him, stretching as far as the eye could see.

There was an object that stood out amongst the crimson, a large glass prism rising up. A figure resided within and he strained his eyes to make out who it was, cursing with his mind once he did. Victoria, his Queen, stood within and she ran a bloodstained hand across the glass, marring its otherwise clear surface. Aramus struggled against whatever bound him, expending whatever energy he had left as he desperately tried to move towards the Queen.

The taste of thick, metallic blood filled his mouth as he tried to call out to her, yet despite all his efforts, it barely caused a ripple in the lake. The ticking in Aramus’ head intensified and with the sound of smashing glass, Her Majesty’s arm began to dissolve. His Queen looked down at him with a gaze filled with sadness, Aramus forced to watch helplessly as Her Majesty’s body slowly melted away into nothing. It was too much for him to bear, and the visions assailed his psyche all at once. Aramus whipped his head back, his eyelids tearing away from the violent action and he howled like a demon as madness claimed his mind.

A fizzing noise was heard, and everything turned blank. Just like a television with its screen showing nothing but static, that was the kind of noise he heard. When he came to, he found himself to be a spectator to a cobblestone street continually moving and shaking.

Someone was running; the tiptap noise of the shoe was tapping against the street. It was a strange world, half the vision seemed to witness all kinds of strange objects—such as the hands of steel rising up from the street—the other half seemed perfectly normal.

Soon, the view seemed to shift upwards, revealing a very dark world. There was a clocktower straight away, houses on either sides of the road seemed to lack windows and entrances. No one was there. The sky was entirely black.

It seemed like a lonely place.

He was hearing the breaths and gasps. It was a girl’s voice, he could barely tell. She kept running. She seemed to turn only once or twice every few minutes, something like tendrils of blackness crawled behind her, but she tried to ignore it. Aramus could feel the desperation; it was a girl running away from something dangerous.

Coming up to the base of the clocktower, the girl could find no entrance. She palmed the wall in haste, but there was nothing—no exit. To the left and right were thick black walls acting as bad omens; obstacles. She turned, her back now against the cold wall.

A blonde girl seemed to face her. A gleaming red flash was witnessed from under the unkempt hair, the face not seen due to the shadows left by the bangs. She was cloaked with black things that Aramus couldn’t really make any sense of.

“Mary…” the voice of the girl was heard, it was sweet and welcoming—warm. Like a close friend calling out.

The hand pulled close and the face seemed to come in full view. There was a round red mouth. It was as though someone took up a red marker pen on a blackboard and drew a circle and filled it in a clumsy manner. Likewise, the girl’s face was completely black and it lacked detail, except this glaring red spot.

The ear piercing scream of the lady known as Mary was heard, a black blade coming to her hand. In fear, with trembling legs, she swung the newfound black thorn.

The monster persisted—bloody—leaking out what seemed comparable to magma due to its unique glow in the dark. When the figure finally dropped after the outrage, Aramus heard the sobbing of the Victorian lady.

“I am so sorry…” she screamed, over and over, apologizing to a friend she slayed with her own hands.

A man stood behind the fallen corpse. His left eye shone gold in the dark.

Aramus saw it.

Jesus Christ was grinning at his mother’s fall into despair.

Bolting upright in his bed, Aramus blinked and looked around the room he was in, realizing that it had been a nightmare like the many that had come before it. His rapid breathing slowed as he calmed down, taking a gulp of water from the mug on his bedstand. The dreams had been coming more often as of late and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, looking at the clock which read 7:18 AM.

This had been the first time a vision of his mother had visited him, and Aramus didn’t know what to make of it. That person, she had clearly been alive the last time he had seen her, but then what could explain this vision in this case? She hadn’t been that hideous either. The appearance of Jesus Christ only fuelled his frustration as it seemed he always had a hand in his mother's misfortune.

With a scowl, he got off the bed and towelled his sweaty body off, freshening up for the day ahead. He put on the suit with silver lapels and checked that he looked the part, the outward appearance and mindset of Witness DAD taking hold and Aramus the disgraced Magister taking a step back.

There would be no time to waste on mere nightmares, chasing after voices in the dark. They were his sins to bear and would follow him to the grave and beyond, nothing would change that. For now, he would work on vanquishing those within reach and then deal with the ghosts of his past.

(OOC: Hi, the RP has started, but we're still accepting players. Send a PM to Ezlare if you're interested.)

Act 1: Newly Awakened

When Enoch proclaimed that our right to Embrace would be shackled forevermore—forbidding us from having our own childers—the Second City would enter a pure state of turmoil. Enoch would be assassinated, Sylah would be tricked, and Irad—hunted. The storm brought about by the horde of desire and pleasure would spiral beyond control that would last for centuries, if not millenniums.

Even then, those who had bypassed the will of God and survived the Deluge—thus known as the Antediluvians—hardly recognised the moment for restraint. Nay, with the concept of moral still in the making among the humans, we—the members of the Damned—hardly held many beliefs of restraint of our own. We were monsters, there was no denying that.

I still remember the days we would unleash upon each other our childes and compete in manners various. Ilyes set Troile against Malkav, and Malkav twisted the hearts of Lucien’s progeny. My childe, Artemis nearly destroyed a childer of Malkav because he sired Nissiku—a person she wanted to Embrace—thus causing a rift between me and my brother.

My habit to be a responsible person—and thus cleaning up after my dear Artemis—led to the war with us siblings. It all began with perhaps the most peaceful talk between my brother and I, where it ended with me finally declaring:

“I’m gonna show you the door the good old-fashioned way, because fuck your madman shit, dear brother.”

The war would bring about the end to the Second City and we would move on peacefully to settlements foreign and refreshing.

This is the story of I, one of the top-tier badass deities of mankind, Ishtar—attributed to war, love, sex, or was it fertility of the lands?—and the founder of the Clan of Ventrue.

What?

You knew none of this?

Forsooth—I mean, that is simply pitiful, young child!

Since you are so attentive, let me share with you the history of us night-dwellers that I have experienced since time immemorial.


The Beginning
It all began with Caine being exiled for having committed a sin, and thus wandering what was supposedly known as the Land of Nod. Wherever that was, Caine met someone we the modern Kindreds would refer to as the Dark Mother—Lilith. Under the care of Lilith—who too, was cursed by God, by the by—Caine had learned the secret wisdom, abilities and arts known today as the †˜Disciplines’.

When it dawned upon Caine that there was no more the Dark Mother could teach him, he had taken leave of the land, forsaking her to her loneliness once more.


The First City
Miserably lonely, the Damned scoured the barren earth for an unknown period of time before having located a dwelling of men. Think like a village in some third-world country—but worse—and you know how the place looked, more or less. Back then, such a settlement was the epitome of a cool place to live in because solitude was absolutely underrated for the Ancients.

Impressed and enamoured, the humans made Caine their King, having witnessed powers thought to dwell only in their wildest imaginations. The time of satisfaction passed quite fast, however. Before even a single generation was passed, no man could keep the lone King company. Perhaps it was the sheer difference in race. A certain worshipper begged for his Embrace, desiring wisdom and power both.

Against the wishes of Archangel Uriel, the deed was done. In his honour, the city was named after the first progeny of Caine—the City of Enoch. Subsequently, Irad was Embraced under the request of Enoch, who wished for Kindred brethren. Lastly, Caine fell deeply in love with Sylah—who was apparently very beautiful. As this woman had quite the strong will, she resisted him despite being a mortal—fully aware of his feelings for her. Caine chose to secretly feed her blood of his own, so that she would be bound to him, before finally Embracing her.

Thus the second generation of vampires were born.

These three went on to create progeny of their own. Embracing many more for differing reasons. For instance, Sylah Embraced Absimiliard because he was a brave hunter with great prowess, Irad Embraced Brujah for having approved his philosophical beliefs, and Enoch Embraced me—the first of the thirteenth Kindreds of the third generation—recognising in me beauty, sagacity, and kingship.

I was raised under the court of Caine before I was acquainted with Enoch, as our great father of all Kindreds had decided that I held in me not only nobility but a form of wisdom that Enoch may have lacked. We would never know the true reason. I speculate that Caine may have kept me as a reserve Queen in case things would go awry in time. Perhaps he was being cautious. Overly cautious. No one knew what he was thinking when he offered me to be sired by Enoch, but Enoch was honoured. Which was quite the contradiction, as he had feared that the King saw greater potential in me than him. It brought about an aspect of envy in him, which may have tormented him greatly.

We of the third generation started to indulge the pleasure of Embracing very soon. Needless to say, tragedy went hand-in-hand with these delicate affairs. By this time, humans and vampires lived together. However, they did not quite coexist happily, for the humans were to serve the Damned.

The Great Flood finally took place and to be frank, I doubt anyone would have missed the First City.

While God may have intended to wipe away all beings except for Noah and his few companions, we the prowlers of the dark managed to sneak on board.

:<

you're scaring me uncle freaky

>Black Widows.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--


But yeah, I would love to have a nice apartment. Not a fan of dorm and shit.

nah, would make some time.

and i really need someone to show me around the goddamn town



not planning to return permanently.

my aim is to settle and shit, get a career or something (aiming to be a writer). sounds crazy and might take a lot of complicated work, but yeah, whatever works.

not scholarship money. my uncle is financing my costs and prolly do have to do part-time jobs. i only got uni's acceptance so far, getting visa is a totally different story.

damn son, i wanna make a waifu shrine one day too

Had no idea.

Oh well, as long as I'm outta here, whatever works.

Going to study in UA.